


Visiting the Anomalies of America

by yinngoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 84,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yinngoh/pseuds/yinngoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After farewelling the last of his friends, Harry decides to take some time off Britain and travel the world - search for a new purpose. He starts off in America and is soon bored. Being known internationally for all its "abnormalities", Harry decides to seek them out, hoping to make some new friends. Immortal Master of Death AU; Slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NeedtoKnow Background Info

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Okay guys, these are just some "need-to-know" notes that i've put together. Not really compulsory, but they might clear some things up if you get confused when you read the 'one-shot that is possibly expanding'.

**Harry Potter**

\- Master of Death AU (Immortal)

\- Born July 31st 1980, currently "aged" around 120 give or take a few. (Going with the pretense that wizards have a slightly longer lifespan, maybe most die around 110-ish)

\- The age gap is kinda big, so I've altered it in a way that Harry's age stops at his early twenties. Here's a little snippit to back up how this happened:

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Master of Death. That was the title given to he/she who controls all three of the Deathly Hallows. There were numerous rumours regarding what being 'Master of Death' entailed, but obviously since no one ever achieved that title before, Harry had no way to tell which were true and which false. One of the such rumours was that Master of Death would be able to evade Death itself – immortality. This seemed to be a fluke since Harry was still aging. However, what he didn't realize that he wasn't truly Master of Death yet._

_A few years after the Battle at Hogwarts, Harry returned for a visit, being invited in by Professor McGonagall who had asked him to guest-speak for DADA. During his free time, Harry was wandering the grounds. He came upon the place where he had given himself over to Voldemort. His thoughts drifted to the Resurrection Stone, which he had left there after that encounter. Not sure why he was doing so, Harry begun shuffling through the fallen leaves. Soon, he came upon the stone again. He wiped off the dirt on it and studied it. He didn't really know what he wanted to do with it. Thinking back on the story of the Peverell brothers, Harry decided that it best be kept away lest it cause harm to anyone who came upon it._

_Whenever Harry travelled, be it for a long time or short, he always carried the same few valuables. They fit snugly into the mokeskin pouch that he had gotten from Hagrid many years ago. It could already carry a greater capacity than it seemed, but Harry had further charmed it with the undetectable extension charm that Hermoine had taught him to make more space. Inside, he kept his the items he deemed most valuable to himself. Such as the old Marauder's Map, a shard from Sirius' broken two-way mirror, the Snitch that Dumbledore had bequeathed to him in his will, his wand, some of his more valued photos and the other two Hallows. Aside from the pouch, he carried a backpack also charmed which kept other essentials. Even though the war had ended and they were in a time of peace, habits die hard and he always had emergency supplies packed – something he picked up from Hermoine no doubt._

_He placed the Stone in his pouch, along with the other two Hallows, and then began to make his way back to the castle. It would be unknown to him until much later, but this marked the time Harry truly became Master of Death; along with it, immortality. It would take him a few years more to figure out that whilst he had come into contact with all three Hallows before, he had never truly been in possession of all three Hallows at the same time until then._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay damn, I really need to learn how to keep things short lulz. Other than this..

\- Harry didn't marry Ginny in the later years. They dated, but they decided to part when they wanted different things and also Harry was glad he did so after when he realized he wasn't aging. They still remained close friends though.

-Not sure about it, (it wont really make a difference unless I plan to expand this story) but Harry is immortal, can die but comes back, but I decided that he could probably choose to STAY dead if he wanted. Since I'm tying this in to Marvel-Universe, he will meet with Hel (Loki's daughter) everytime he dies until he revives again. So he could maybe stay dead if he really really really wanted. Maybe. If Hel's nice. :}

\- His appearance is Book!Harry, not Movie!Harry. So = black hair, green eyes, kinda slim. Short. Lol.

**Wolverine (James "Logan" Howlett)**

\- Born April 9th 1882. Currently around 220 years old, give or take.

\- Physical age around mid-30s or late-30s. (PS, can you believe it? Hugh jackman makes him look old but he himself is only like, early 40s lol)

\- He's mostly based on the X-Men movies. I'm not very well versed in the comic-universe of him.

\- Not sure about this, but Marvel-wiki says he just has 'slow' aging, but I'm making it so that it's the case of some other shows where people who heal fast and get into lots of fights – their bodies heal very often and all kinds of injuries that the cells kind of stop aging altogether. So yes, he can't age. Stopped at his physical age now. Also going with the whole 'world war 1' thing where everytime he dies he fights with Azrael the Angel of Death? for a chance to come back to life. So he CAN die. Just to make it clear.

\- Not really relevant but he still doesn't have his memories back yet.

**Miscellaneous**

Also! I have a few things I have in mind to use for POSSIBLE extra chapters, but they're from things I've read on marvel-wikis and what-not, which are mainly about stuff from the comics. I've never really read the comics myself, so if anyone would like to volunteer and help me sort some of these things out to see whether or not I can fit them in and make sense or not, drop me a message! (:

Anything else you don't understand, let me know. I may come back and edit this page to add in stuff if I expand the story.. or if I just have something to add in in general. I will post at the bottom of chapters if there's something you might need to refer to this.


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Harry placed his customary lily over the casket as it was lowered down, together with a folded piece of parchment that contained all the words he had never said; stained with all the tears he would never shed. He cut himself off from all his senses as he closed his eyes and just stood there in silence. Throughout the entire service, he had felt the gazes and feelings of discomfort from the majority of the other attendants at his presence. It lowered considerably, however, when he had given the eulogy for Ginny Weasley. A few individuals – relatives of the passed – would welcome him solemnly after the initial few services of his older acquaintances. Each had requested of him to give their eulogies in their final years. Harry lost himself in his mind until he felt the warmth of the sun on his face and behind his eyelids. His lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes to take in the beautiful weather. A faint smile crossed his lips as he looked at the casket endearingly, the brightness of the sun making the black cover glitter under the sun. A breeze swept through the area, ruffling his hair and clothes like a loving touch. He shut his eyes again and breathed in deeply – relishing the moment. He felt as if Ginny was trying to communicate with him. All of them were. The wind howled, and in his ears it eerily sounded like the word _go._ They were giving him their blessing. His smiled turned into a proper one as he gazed up into the blue sky, and with a resounding crack, apparated back to his temporary residence at 12 Grimmauld Place – the former Order of the Phoenix’s headquarters.

                “Kreacher!” Harry called out, “Dobby?” with a distorted swirl, the two house elves appeared before him, at his service. “I’ll be leaving now,” he breathed out, glancing around the house, possibly for the last time. “Take care of yourselves, will you?” He and Kreacher had come to a mutual understanding in the first years after the war was over; Kreacher would serve Harry since he was the closest thing left to the Black bloodline and in return Harry allowed Kreacher the freedom to do as he pleased to maintain the old Black family residence. Harry had initially offered to free the house elf, but Kreacher claimed that in his age even as a house elf, he had nothing else he wanted to do. Dobby was another story altogether. It seemed he had not died when they believed, but had instead sensed the danger to his life as he had apparated the trio and had quickly cast a replication spell on himself. It was old magic and he had had to spend a while recuperating before making his way to Hogwarts, where he met up with Harry once again. Insisting that he stay with Harry as it was his ‘wish’ and also had no desire to leave, Harry had taken him in. Their long lifespans proved convenient as they remained the only constant in his life as he began to watch his friends grow old and start their own families.

Ginny and himself had also come to a compromise regarding their relationship and although she had firmly claimed to love only him; despite his ‘minor problem’ regarding being unable to age, he hadn’t wanted to tie her down and pleaded for her to at least keep her options open. A few years later, they became one another’s confidante instead when she had fallen in love with a muggle businessman on one of her work trips. He had given her his blessing and wishes and they continued to stay close friends. All of his friend’s children were acquainted with him and he was also named godfather for a number of them too. As they had begun to grow into a ripe old age, he had discussed with all his old friends and their children his intentions to go abroad and just enjoy himself; possibly finding a new home even. They had all helped him to prepare for his ‘journey’ across the globe and Ginny, being the last one alive of his original group of friends as they began to pass on one by one, had wished him a happy life. She had passed away that night – peacefully in her sleep.

Now, packing the last of his belongings, he called out to the two house elves, once again repeating the words he had firmly told them every now and then since Ginny’s passing. “I’ve left a decent amount of money in Gringgotts for both of you; it should cover anything and everything you’ll need for a while. Here’s the key,” he bent down and pressed it into Kreacher’s hand, “and I’ve already worked out with the goblins that you are allowed access to that vault. I’ll be sure to restock it when I can, but it should last for quite some time.” No doubt, as the amount of galleons he had put into that vault was almost equal to the towering piles he had received from his trust fund back when he was eleven. “You’re welcome to do anything you want, just try to keep the place tidy please,” Dobby was still shocked whenever Harry told him that he was free to do whatever he wished. “I might call either one of you now and then, but other than that it’s your decision on what you plan to do.” He gave them his goodbyes, and he theirs, and he promptly apparated to every one of his godchildren’s homes to leave them each a note; detailing his farewells to them individually and ways to contact him in the case of an emergency. Then, he apparated to the airport.

He managed to pass through all the procedures smoothly – mostly thanks to all the magical folk who held muggle jobs and had recognized him – and was soon boarding a plane to New York; a good place that they thought he should start off his ‘adventure’ at. Harry appreciated the help he had gotten, but looked forward to having a new start in America – own his own terms and relying just on his own abilities. He took a good nap on the plane trip there and then before he knew it, had arrived. He hadn’t needed to collect any baggage as he’d just brought the one backpack slung over his shoulder, charmed in the same way as Hermoine’s pouch back when they were on the run and hunting Horcruxes. Strolling out of the airport casually, he first decided to do a little shopping.

Part of planning for his trip had included splitting all the wealth he had inherited from his parents and the Black line, and a substantial amount obtained annually from the recently reformed Ministry of Magic, they had managed to split up his wealth to the banks of every country he intended to visit, and converted the majority of it to muggle currencies. Settling the meagre task of acquiring more suitable clothes, Harry was now dressed in a simple t-shirt and jacket, which he had packed away in his backpack for when he needed it, a comfortable pair of jeans that didn’t restrict his movement, and a pair of sneakers of a pale green hue. On his way, he had picked up the day’s paper and currently sat in an outdoor café sipping an exquisite latte. In the reflection of a glass door, he noticed a number of inconspicuous individuals who were watching him. He didn’t feel any sort of threat from them and figured that they probably belong to that some-or-rather division that he was told may be monitoring his movements throughout his stay in America. No worries though, as the Ministry had already informed them of his arrival and he’d been told that they wouldn’t bother him too much. Growing bored rather quickly, he finished his drink, folded and packed away the paper and got up from his seat. Harry walked over to one of the ‘agents’ who for a moment was unsure whether to keep his cover and act nonchalant, or quickly move out of sight. He seemed to decide on the former and Harry was pleased; smiling when he approached said man.

               “Is there anything interesting you’d recommend me to do? I’m actually rather bored really,” Harry drawled in his easy British accent. The man openly gaped at him for a moment before stuttering; this was rewarded by a raised brow and an amused expression by Harry. Finally the man seemed to just decide to dump the problem to another person and spoke into what Harry had gathered as a hidden communications device. He called for his superior and provided his location. Then they were left to stand there in an awkward silence while they waited. It didn’t last long – to the poor agent’s relief – before a darkly tinted black hummer pulled up and doors opened. Many more agents came out, but the most plain-looking one that caught Harry’s eye was an aging man who looked in his forties and donned a pair of dark shades and a no-nonsense attitude which he immediately liked. He seemed to be the one in charge as Harry watched him nod to the agent beside Harry whilst the others inconspicuously shadowed him and watched his back. Harry smiled as he was approached once again.

                “Mr Potter, I’m Agent Coulson from the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division,” said man extended his hand out which Harry took politely, whistling at the mouthful of a government division.

                “Harry Potter,” he shook hands, “although you already know that.” Agent Coulson nodded and continued, “Alex tells me you are in need of assistance?” He asked. Henry nodded, beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, like I said, I’m quite new here and I haven’t really planned many activities to keep me occupied. So..” he looked around the street, “is there anything interesting to do around here?” The man raised an amused brow.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?” Harry hummed and tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, I came here because you seem to have you lot seem to have your fair share of.. “special” people?” Harry couldn’t find the right word.

“ _Special_ , huh?” Coulson repeated. “I think I know a good place to start.” He smiled seeing the young man’s face light up. “Hold on, I have to make a call first,” he held up a finger. The boy nodded and he turned his back on him, pulling out his government-issued cell-phone. Connecting through to base, he pulled his authority strings and got patched through to where he wanted to.

“Hello, this is Charles.”

“Good afternoon, Professor, this is Agent Coulson,” he greeted the man politely.

“Ah, Phillip, it’s been awhile! What can I do for you?” Coulson glanced back at Harry who was occupying himself by whistling and grinning at the other agents – all of whom seemed wary and slightly uncomfortable in his presence.

“Well sir, we have a.. _visitor_ , of sorts, who would maybe like to pay a visit to your school. If it’s no problem with you, of course.”

“Oh! No, of course not, Phillip. Now, who is this _visitor_ of yours, may I enquire?” Another glance at Harry caught him mid-yawn.

“I think it’d be better to get to know him yourself, Professor, it’s not my place to reveal any information pertaining to him.” He heard a warm chuckle in the other end of the line.

“Very well, when would you like to visit?”

“Would today be too much of a rush?”

“Hmm.. no, I think that should be no problem, Phillip. Do you need for me to send someone to pick you up?”

“No sir, that’s fine.”

“Alright then, Mr Coulson, I will see you then.” They bid each other goodbye and he proceeded to turn his attention back to Harry.

“Okay Mr Potter, I’ve arranged for your entertainment of the day,” said man’s brows shot up and an amused smile lit up his face.

“Brilliant! Where to, Agent Coulson?” he asked enthusiastically, bounding up to the older man. Said agent nodded to him and turned towards the sleek black car that he had arrived in, motioning with his hand for Harry to follow him. He slid in and after a moment of scrutinizing the car, Harry slid in next to him. The door was shut and other agents filed in through different doors, effectively surrounding them. Coulson leaned forward to speak to the driver.

“Bring us to the X-Mansion, will you George?” the driver gave a prompt affirmative reply and they were off. Harry knew that trying to start a conversation with any of the stoic-faced agents would just be awkward, so instead he opted to stare out the window at the scenery that they passed.

They pulled up to a majestic stone castle, exuding an old, grand atmosphere. Harry was practically pressed up against the window, jaw hanging ajar as his eyes took in the beauty of the land. Their doors were pulled open by the other agents in the car and they both stepped out. No words were exchanged as Coulson went to stand by Harry’s side, having to suppress a smile at the expression of wonder and amazement on the boy’s face. He kept an air of professionalism as he noticed two individuals approaching their group from the entrance of the building. Recognising them, he nodded to them in acknowledgement just before they were right in from of them. Harry seemed to be completely oblivious to the arrival of the two as he was still enjoyed the scenery around him instead. Either that, or he was purposely ignoring their presence for now.

“Agent Coulson, the professor welcomes you and your guest,” said a still man who wore dark red tinted sunglasses, “we’re here to escort you to him.” Now Harry was studying the man with open interest. Said man was looking rather uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze, but once he caught Coulson’s nod, he and the woman beside him turned around and motioned for them to follow. They conceded and Coulson kept an eye on Harry as if watching a child that might bolt off at any time. Harry, whilst he was slightly put off that he couldn’t explore the place and find out all the secrets it held – probably the Marauder in him to blame for that – but he was content at the moment to merely drink in what he saw along the way as they move their way through the countless halls, corridors, rooms and doorways. Finally, they reached a large, ornate wooden door. The man knocked on it a few times, an acknowledging sound was heard from the other side, and he swung the door open, standing by it inside as the woman ushered them in. Harry thanked her as he walked in, the woman smiling appreciatively at him.

“Welcome,” a warm, aged voice came from the centre of the room. Since they had arrived, Harry had been quite relaxed. He figured he wouldn’t have to be too paranoid considering it was a place the Agent had recommended; and he doubted they’d bring him to some place that wasn’t safe. But right then in that room, Harry’s guard picked up instinctively, causing him to go on alert immediately. He felt like someone was invading his senses – just as he’d feel through the connection he’d had with Voldemort, or when Snape had used _legilimency_ on him – but oddly enough, it didn’t feel unpleasant as it usually did. Instead, it was more like a soothing yet inquisitive stroking on his mind, skimming lightly over his shields – if he weren’t so attuned to his senses and powers, Harry doubted he may have even noticed it. He turned around, ready to drop into an offensive stance if need be, and was surprised to come face to face with an elderly bald man gliding towards them in a wheelchair. He was confused when he felt his body begin to relax the moment he had spotted the man. Agent Coulson greeted the man as “professor”, and shook his hand politely. Turning to him with an amused expression, his wheelchair whirled softly, bringing him to stop before Harry. “Good afternoon, you must be the guest Phillip mentioned earlier,” he extended a hand. Harry stared at it for a second too long before Coulson let out an indiscrete cough and he jerked back to the present.

“Oh! uh- yeah.. Potter. Uh I mean, Harry,” the man’s brow rose with a clear amused expression on his face as he watched the young man stumble on his words as he tried to recover from his slight daze. He took a deep breath in as he clasped his hand firmly and shook, “Harry Potter, sir.” Xavier smiled.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Potter, my name is Charles Xavier. I am the principal of this school. The students here refer to me as Professor X,” he introduced himself. Harry licked his lips a little nervously.

“Just Harry is fine, Professor,” Harry gave a meek smile, “this is a _wicked_ school you have here,” he noted, letting a little of Ron’s old slang slip out before he could stop it. Xavier merely smiled.

“So I’ve heard,” he drawled, taking in Harry’s embarrassed expression in fondly. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to some chairs which he and the Agent took. The man and woman who had led them over here taking a silent stance against the wall close to the door instead. “You’ve met Jean and Scott,” said the Professor, nodding to the two. Harry turned, giving an acknowledging nod and smile. “They are both teachers here,” he added as Harry turned back around. “Now Harry, I heard you were in need of some.. entertainment?” Harry’s lips quirked up in a more amused smile as he glanced over at Agent Coulson who gave a rather out-of-character shrug as an answer.

“Um,” Harry fiddled with the hem of his shirt a little guiltily, thinking he pulled these people out of their business just because he was a little bored. Okay, well, more like bored out of his mind. And he’d only been in the country for a day. That’s saying something. “Yeah,” he answered lamely. “I came to the states for a.. change of pace, I guess you could say.” He didn’t really know how to explain himself really. Back home, there was no need, and he’d never really thought about what he’d say before he came either. He looked up to see the Professor smiling fondly at him.

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s what you thought you were in for, but we’d be honoured if you would like to stay.”

“Stay?” Harry repeated.

“Oh yes. You see, my school is a boarding school actually. And most of our students stay here indefinitely. Mr Coulson has let me know that you are not unfamiliar with some of the ‘special’ cases we have here in America, so I’m sure you understand.” Harry let himself soak in the information before putting together the pieces and watching it click into place.

“Oh, this is a _school_ ,” he said again, the look on the other room’s occupant’s faces saying that he was repeating himself, “for.. _oh_.” This made almost everyone smile amusedly. Almost. Coulson kept his game face on. Now Harry looked around the office in a new light. “Wow,” he breathed, then chuckled, turning in his seat to face the Agent. “You either have psychic powers or you’re _really_ good at what you do,” he commented. Coulson let loose a small smile at the boy.

“I try.”

“It seems I’m missing something here,” the Professor intervened politely. Harry shook his head and righted himself.

“No, no. It’s just,” his eyes raked over the place again. “This is really familiar.” Xavier’s brows were telling him to elaborate, which he did. “I went to a boarding school like this, in Scotland.” He chuckled, remembering fond memories, then looked at Professor Xavier, “you even remind me of my headmaster there too.” Xavier smiled.

“What is his name?”

“His name was Albus Dumbledore,” Harry answered, eyes glazing over slightly, gaze unfocused. None of the other occupants in the room had missed the past tense used in the sentence either. Xavier nodded sombrely.

“He must have been a good man.”

“The greatest,” agreed Harry. “He was one of the people that led me to be what I am today,” he smiled ruefully. Xavier wanted to ask more, but he knew it was not the time. He knew he would have to get to know the man before him first before he would indulge the information to him.

“Well, I think that’s something for another time,” he said, seeing Harry’s grateful nod at that, “now, would you like to tell me what it is you can _do_ , Harry?” The emotion slipped from Harry’s face to become blank. But not in a I’m-hiding-something way, but in a more I-don’t-understand way. “You yourself _are_ like one of us, if I am not mistaken?” Harry’s mouth opened and closed. Not very sure what his answer was.

“I,” he trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. “Not exactly,” he decided to answer the last statement. When he received raised brows, he elaborated, “I can do a lot of things,” hoping to not sound too much like a threat.

“Like what?” The man leaning against the wall called out this time, eyes hidden behind his shades. Harry gave a crooked smile. Curiosity he was familiar with.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he said with an unnecessarily sultry look. At the same time, the door of the office open and an imposing figure strode in confidently.

“What is it Chuck?” Said a deep voice, coming from said man. Only after he was half-way in the room did he notice that it was already occupied. He also hadn’t failed to hear that last comment by Harry, who he gave a somewhat approving glance at for the joking comment. “Oh, am I _interrupting_ something here?” He said, smirking at the Cyclops who was already frowning at him.

“Not at all Logan,” the Professor’s calm voice cut through their tension easily, “So, Harry, you did not answer my question earlier.” Harry looked back from where he was having a three-way glaring-smirking-leering competition between him and the other two men.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, unable to recall what exactly had been asked.

“Would you like to stay? Here?” Xavier prompted. Harry looked stumped. He didn’t think the man had been serious. Because, come on, they hadn’t even known each other for an _hour_ yet. He just stared at the professor for a moment, who merely watched him patiently.

“Uh, I..” his eyes were jumping back and forth, before he looked at the Agent beside him. Slipping out of his stoic mask, Coulson gave the young man a reassuring smile. He was so young, and Fury had been incredibly vague when he’d been sent to watch over the boy, so he was not exactly sure what he had done to have gotten SHIELD’s attention, but the boy, for all his easy-going attitude, had had such a weary look in his eyes. He knew for a fact that Charles Xavier was a good man. He could be trusted. And God knows by the looks of things, the boy was just looking for a place to call home. He watched as ‘Harry’ pursed his lips. “Okay. Yes, please. I would.. really appreciate that.”


	3. Rogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

“Wonderful, commented the Professor. Immediately, he began speaking to Jean and Scott, instructing them to have a room prepared for Harry. Agent Coulson was leaning over and asking him if he had any belongings he would want to collect or have delivered. Harry merely shook his head and gave both his pouch and his backpack a vague pat.

 

                “Wait, wait, wait,” cut in a gruff voice. Instantly, the chatter stopped and everyone turned to face Logan with varying questioning expressions. “Who _is_ this kid, Chuck?” Harry didn’t bristle under the assumption of him being a child, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little surprised. After the war, he had helped to rebuild Britain’s magical community. It wasn’t much of a secret, his immortality, but it wasn’t all that publicised either. However, no matter how he looked, he hadn’t been called a boy for a long time He usually answered to all kinds of odd titles that people would address him by.

 

                “Oh yes. Logan, this is Mr Harry Potter,” Xavier introduced them, “Harry, this is Logan Howlett, he’s one of the professors here,” Harry gave Logan a curt nod in acknowledgement, but Logan merely grunted in return. The kid hadn’t seemed to question nor raise a sceptical brow at him being a ‘professor’ – which was a first. It was light the kid was used to the abnormal.

 

                “So you a mutant?” he asked straight out. Harry gave him a smile, the conversation returning to what it was before he had barged in. This time he allowed himself a moment to think things over before replying.

 

                “Not exactly,” he began again. He turned to sit properly and face Professor Xavier; who he knew would be the most interested in what he would have to say. “To be a mutant, is to have a mutation on a genetic level, which sets you apart from humans. Truly, from their point of view, I _would_ be a human, but to me, I am genetically normal.” Xavier held a pondering look as he listened.

 

                “So you mean to say that you aren’t human, but you aren’t mutant either, because there are others like you?” he interpreted. Harry nodded. The Professor hummed thoughtfully. “Intriguing. So you have a whole community of people like you?” Again, he was granted an affirmative nod. “In that case, what about an organized government?” Harry was steadily getting impressed by the man’s deductions, and for every nod he gave, his amused smile grew. “So, would it be possible that you might have a _law_ , perhaps, that would restrict one such as you from revealing the nature of your circumstance to regular folk?” Now, Harry was very impressed. However, he decided to do more than just nod this time.

 

                “Yes, it’s called the Statute of Secrecy,” he watched as the Professor nodded in understanding, “but it does not fully apply to me.” This caught their curiosity. He could see the _why_ on their lips, so he answered before they could ask. “Just an exception,” he shrugged, “for my services.”

 

                “Services?” Echoed Logan, “what, you served in the army or sumthin’?”

 

                “‘Or something,’” he said. Logan frowned, obviously about to ask more, before the Professor cut him off.

 

                “Logan, Harry’s a guest,” he chastised. Harry leaned forward to rest his forearms on the Professor’s table.

 

                “It’s no problem, Professor,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t mind sharing some things about myself,” he smirked when he saw that Logan was just about to jump at the chance to bombard him with questions, “but like I had said before; if you want me to show you my life, you have to show me something in return.” His smirk grew with he saw Logan scowl. He knew his type. Eager to catch out potential threats, but completely unwilling to share their own experiences. He had just about called this a win when someone else spoke up.

 

                “Anything will do?” a feminine voice asked. He turned, and saw that it was the woman who had held the door for him earlier. He was surprised that it wasn’t the man next to her that had spoken out. He shrugged.

 

                “Yeah. I’ll try to show you someone of equal value in return I guess. Doesn’t matter what really. You can make me some fantastic freshly squeezed juice and I could whip up some delectable French toast,” he added, with a tug of his lips and a suggestive arch of his brow. The woman smiled, pushed herself off the wall and started making her way towards him. His eyes followed her striding up casually until she was next to him. She raised her hand, and her eyes motioned for him to follow the movement. His gaze snapped to her hand and she moved it in a sweeping motion. On the table, a pen floated up from where it rested, glided horizontally for a while, and then dropped back down when Jean’s hand lowered. Harry watched this happen with a splitting grin. When it was over, he looked up at her and they locked gazes. She inclined her head, motioning for his move. He raised a hand, and gave it a prompt flick of the wrist. Jean wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be focusing on since he didn’t seem to be motioning at anything in particular, nor did he even break eye contact with her. So, she jumped when the door, which was left ajar when Logan had stepped in, slammed shut. Her eyes jumped back and forth between the door and Harry, widened in surprise. To their side, the Professor was very interested in this new piece of information, and Logan frowned – both had noted the ease in which the move had been executed. When Jean had finally gathered her wits again, she was smiling brightly at Harry.

 

                “Thank you,” she said. He nodded to her as well. Logan slammed his hand onto the table in front of Harry, catching his attention. Xavier had no doubt that he was going to unsheathe his claws and see what Harry would do in return to _that_. So, he cut in first.

 

                “Enough, Logan,” he said in a warning tone that made sure Logan wouldn’t try to argue, “Scott, can you and Logan please show Mr Potter his room?” Scott nodded as he made towards the door. The Professor made sure to shoot another warning glance at Logan to behave, before Harry too stood up to thank him. Harry also thanked Agent Coulson for bringing him here.

 

                “Do feel free to contact us if you are in need of any assistance, Mr Potter,” Coulson said as they shook hands. Harry nodded in understanding and tried to get him to call him Harry, but to no avail. Saying his goodbyes and see-you-later’s, he followed the two men out the door. The trip was silent for the most part, aside from some students who passed them, greeted the two, and shot him curious looks. Scott opened the door to one of the rooms in a long stretch of a corridor on the first level. Harry gave him a nod in thanks as he made his way into the room. It was rather decent-sized considering the number of people that stayed there. Then again, the building had been huge on the outside already. Scott gave him a brief introduction on the layout of the building and asked if he needed anything else; to which he shook his head. He told them that he’d probably unpack first and then maybe explore, if it was alright with them. They left not long after and he made his way over to the bed.

 

Sitting down, he shrugged off his backpack and unslung the pouch from his shoulders. He contemplated what to unpack and what to leave be. He hadn’t planned on having already managed to procure accommodations so quickly, and he also wasn’t sure if he was welcome to stay for too long. With that, he decided to just take out minimal things. Pulling out some clothing, he carefully arranged them in the wardrobe and allocated drawers. He also pulled his shrunken-trunk, casting a quick charm to return it to its original size once he placed it on the ground. It was different to the trunk he had used in Hogwarts. This one was a magical trunk like the one Professor Moody had used in his fourth year – charmed to 7 different layers. The layers reacted to magic only, so if a muggle were to open the chest, it would only show the first layer, which merely held ordinary items. The rest of his items that he used were mostly those he kept on himself at all times; in his pouch. So, declaring himself done, he shoved the trunk towards the wall and left to explore.

 

Harry walked around aimlessly for a while, and ended up in the open kitchen. Suddenly feeling a bit peckish, his thoughts trailed back to the meeting before, where he had exchanged with the red-haired woman his being able to move objects. It was one of the first things he had picked up and trained on to pass time as an ‘immortal’; among other things. So, since they already considered him as a sort of telekinetic, he decided it would be okay to do so more. Waving his hands in practiced motions, drawers and cupboards opened as he walked into the kitchen, utensils and other equipment flying about. He walked over to where a chopping board had put itself down, some apples setting themselves atop it. He held out his hand and a sharp kitchen knife’s handle slid snugly into his palm, and he began to cut up the apples meticulously. Behind him, objects were still floating about their own business – preparing some hot chocolate for him.

 

                “Whoa! What—” Harry looked up from his work, but the movements behind him did not falter. He spotted a young girl, probably in her late teens, with odd white-highlights in her hair, standing frozen in the doorway, eyes focused on the commotion behind him. Harry merely gave a friendly smile in her direction.

 

                “Just whipping up some hot chocolate,” he said casually, resuming his work, “would you like one?” His eyes flicked up to take in the still-gaping girl. She quickly shook herself out of it and stared at _him_ for a moment.

 

                “Uh,” she stalled, eyes going back to the floating objects distractedly, “sure?” Harry grinned, and with a free hand, motioned for her to sit at one of the chairs around the island before him. She slowly approached, pulling out the chair in front of him. By this time, he had cut up about five apples into pieces of eight each; set up in two large plates. He slid one across to her and kept the other on the table for anyone who wanted them. Then, he made his way around the island and pulled out the chair next to the girl, taking it. Their drinks flew over and settled themselves before them, Harry easily snatching his from the air. He watched bemusedly as the girl’s cup hovered in front of her and she nervously extended a hand, wrapping her fingers around the mug. Once he was satisfied she had a good enough grip on it, the cup was released from his control.

 

                “I’m Harry,” he said then, calling her attention back on him. She now had both hands wrapped around the mug, savouring the warmth seeping through it. She took him in curiously, and he allowed her the time to respond.

 

                “I’m Rogue,” she finally said back. He raised a brow.

 

                “You’re a _rogue_ , are you?” he joked lightly. This caused the girl to give the tiniest of smiles, biting the inside of her lips.

 

                “No, I mean, that’s what people call me,” she said, even though she knew he was joking. Harry paid attention to the words before replying.

 

                “And do you want to be called Rogue?” he asked. She looked up at him in surprise, blinking owlishly, not knowing what to respond. Harry waited patiently. Patience was something he had learnt over the years – after all, he had all the time in the world, right?

 

                “Rogue’s fine,” the girl said softly, eyes lowering. A few seconds later, when he hadn’t said anything else, she looked up from beneath her lashes, “or Marie, if you’d like.” This time Harry smiled wider.

 

                “How about,” he propositioned, shifting in his seat to face her more comfortably, “I call you Marie when it’s just us?” The girl nodded, obviously happy he wasn’t going to go around calling her name like they’d just become instant best-friends. “And you can call me Harry.” She smiled.

 

                “Nice to meet you, Harry,” she said pleasantly, taking a sip of her beverage. She gave a satisfied moan, which made Harry smirk. “This is really good!”

 

                “The pleasure’s all mine, Marie,” he said lightly, “and thank you. I do pride myself on my _fantastic_ beverage-making skills,” he gave her a playful wink. She giggled, and he was glad she was more relaxed than before. They sat in a comfortable silence like that for some time, just drinking and nibbling on apple slices. Harry felt Rogue’s eyes take him in curiously, and he didn’t really mind. Curiosity was usually a good thing in his mind.

 

                “What’s that?” Harry’s gaze looked up at her and he followed her outstretched arm which pointed at his chest. He looked down and saw the silver necklace that rested there. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off.

 

                “Harry? You in here?” he recognized that gruff voice. Logan, his mind supplied. He called out an affirmative and soon the man was striding into the kitchen. The girl in front of him turned and seemed to brighten at his presence.

 

                “Logan!” she called out cheerfully, the man grunted in acknowledgement and strode over.

 

                “Hey kiddo,” he said, “you bondin’ with Harry over here?” Rogue blushed at the sly look he directed at her, but then sent him a quick glare.

 

                “Oh shut up Logan,” Harry remained silent. Content to watch them bicker as his entertainment. “What do you want?” He caught Logan’s gaze after the question was uttered.

 

                “Prof wants to see you to fill up some papers,” Logan said to him. He nodded in understanding, standing up. He placed a hand on Rogue’s shoulder gently, causing her to turn around.

 

                “We’ll resume this conversation next time, alright?” She nodded, “enjoy the snacks.” With that, and a sharp nod at Logan, he took off in what he hoped was the way to the Professor’s office. Before he could question his sense of direction, he noticed that Logan was following him. He turned his body to speak, but didn’t stop moving. “Are you my escort?” He joked. The man gave a huff which amused him.

 

                “Didn’t think you’d know the way back.”

 

                “Well,” Harry said, walking on, “how am I doing so far?” The man hummed a reply.

 

                “Not too shabby for a first-timer.”

 

                “I’m flattered.” This earned him a grin from Logan, but he didn’t see it as he had already turned back to face the front. When he arrived at the door, he knocked politely, waiting to be allowed entry. Getting it, he walked in, followed by Logan.

 

                “Harry, thank you for coming. I’d just like to run over some things with you if that’s alright with you,” said the Professor. Harry nodded his consent. “How would you like to consider staying in the Mansion as a long-term possibility?” Harry cast him a quizzical look. So, the Professor continued, “I understand from Agent Coulson that you are on an extended ‘leave’ of sorts and that you plan to merely hop between places.” Again, Harry nodded. “What I’m offering you is a place here, in the Mansion, for as long as you’d like. Be it if just until you decide to move on, or indefinitely, if you choose.” Harry’s brows went up.

 

                “I appreciate the offer Professor, but may I enquire; why? You’ve only known me for less than a day, and as you said, you are aware that I may not stay long anyway. Wouldn’t it just be more trouble to give me a permanent place to stay here?” Xavier merely smiled in return.

 

                “That is true, Harry, but this is after all, my mansion. And I offer refuge to anybody who seeks it; no matter who they are. Although I must say I am curious about you, as you have demonstrated earlier, I am content with just steadily getting to know you in that way. What do you say?” Harry pursed his lips.

 

                “Can I have some time to think it over?” he asked. The Professor nodded obligingly.

 

                “Very well. I intended to ask you to fill in some forms if you had decided to stay, however, I will keep them for another time. Harry promptly shook his head.

 

                “Oh, that’s why. I don’t mind filling them in now, if you’d like. It doesn’t make much of a difference to me really,” Harry said. If he didn’t want them to know about him, it wasn’t a very hard thing for him to ensure just that. Xavier gave him an inquisitive look, before pulling out the papers. He readied a pen in his hand.

 

                “They are simple questions, really, for our records,” Professor Xavier explained. Harry nodded, understanding that he will be asked the questions instead of filling them out. “Full name?”

 

                “Harry James Potter-Black,” he answered confidently. After the war, and turning 18, he had inherited not only the title of Potter family Lord and fortune, but also that of the Black line’s. With two of the oldest and most notable families to his name, he was very well off indeed.

 

                “Date of Birth?” Harry smirked.

 

                “Thirty-first of July.” The Professor shot him a look at the missing year.

 

                “Age?” Having not been specific, Harry took it to mean _physical_ age.

 

                “Twenty-three.” Since he had been ‘immortalised’ by gathering all three Hallows, he stated the age  he was when he had procured the Resurrection Stone again after returning to Hogwarts.

 

                “Place of Birth?”

 

                “England.”

 

                “Blood type?”

 

                “Half-blood,” _that_ got some attention. The Professor didn’t say anything, but he could see that it was information being stored for some other time. Harry knew what the question meant. But truthfully, he had never really checked his blood type before. And, he hadn’t wanted to lie about it in case it turned out to be important later on. Also, he figured that it didn’t really matter if he told them his blood status. They weren’t wizards – let alone a pureblood idealist – so it was more or less harmless. To the side, he saw that Logan too seemed to have taken an interest at his answer. But he was silent for the moment too. It took a moment before the next question was asked.

 

                “Previous Occupations?” Harry hummed. He had to think about this one really. What counted as an _occupation_? Saviour? He chuckled on the inside at the thought of giving that as his answer.

 

                “Part-time lecturer,” he said slowly, the answer vague. “And blank.”

 

                “Blank?” Xavier repeated.

 

                “Yeah, as in, leave a blank,” he quirked his lips into a mischievous grin. “If you find out, you can fill it in. Doesn’t really matter though.” Xavier watched him for a moment longer then decided to leave a line anyway.

 

                “Aliases?”

 

                “Ugh,” Harry groaned. “If you mean like, a codename, then none.” A brow was raised.

 

                “What other aliases are there?”

 

                “The ones that people put on you,” Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

                “Care to share?” The Professor asked lightly, smile on his lips. Harry studied him carefully, then sighed and began to tick off thoughts on his fingers.

 

                “Blank, blank and blank.” Xavier’s lips twitched. Looks like he might just enjoy the puzzle the boy was creating for him, leaving the appropriate spaces empty.

 

                “Titles?” Harry frowned. _They use titles in America?_ he thought.

 

                “Like what?” he decided to ask for an example.

 

                “Well, normal titles like _doctor_ , could be one,” the Professor drawled patiently, “or status titles such as _senator_ too.” Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. He thought of the most important ones. With a sigh, he recited the one title he could reveal at the moment first.

 

                “Lord of the most _noble_ houses of Potter and Black,” he parroted, eye-rolling at the ‘appropriate’ moment. “blank, and blank.” The Professor’s brows had risen at the lengthy title, writing it down.

 

                “I take it your family is influential, then?” Harry nodded, shrugging.

 

                “You could say that. I’m the only one that’s left of the line from both houses, so..” another shrug. The Professor nodded in understanding and didn’t press further.

 

                “And lastly,” he read out, “abilities?” Xavier smirked, knowing that the child wasn’t going to reveal anything; but it was worth a try anyway. Harry smirked.

 

                “Come now, Professor, you know that’s not how the game’s played.” Xavier nodded.

 

                “Indeed,” he noted, “however, when you first arrived, you had already experienced my ability, did you not?” Harry nodded, thinking back about how the Professor had grazed his occlumency shields.

 

                “True, but you did get something in return anyway,” Harry replied.

 

                “Oh?” the Professor said, thinking back as to what it was. Harry proceeded to get up from his seat and begin to leave. Before he excused himself, he turned back to the Professor.

 

                “You couldn’t get in, could you?” with that, he said his goodbyes and exited. Stretching once outside, he glanced around and noticed that it was beginning to get quite late. He took off in search for the dining hall.

* * *

“Chuck?” Logan called out, pushing himself off the wall and approaching the elderly man who sat in a contemplative silence. “So what do you need?” Xavier looked up at Logan.

 

                “There is no rush at the moment. But if you can, try to see if you can exchange information enough to get him to reveal his other occupation, or titles. From what he said earlier, the aliases shouldn’t matter if they’re not made by him himself,” Logan nodded in understanding. “Let the others know too. If you find something, let me know.” After that, he dismissed Logan and told him that he should probably help Harry get to the dining area, and he filed away the papers to ponder on later.


	4. Kids at Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

A quick Point-Me spell was all it took for Harry to find his way to the dining hall. He looked around, taking in the various groups that sat at the tables. He noticed that there was a long table for the adults to sit together; just like they had in Hogwarts’s great hall. He wasn’t particularly sure where to go, so he figured that that would be a place to start. As he began making his way over, he heard his name being called out. Turning, he scanned the crowds. There, in one of the tables, was Rogue; waving him over with a welcoming smile. His face brightened up and he made his way toward her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan entering the room and watching quizzically as Rogue called him over. When he got to them, he returned Rogue’s smile as she ushered him into the seat next to her.

 

                “Guys, this is Harry,” she introduced, and he nods his head to the other occupants at the table. “Harry, this is Bobby, Pyro, Kitty Pryde and Warren.” They all exchanged friendly greetings with him and the men some firm handshakes. Harry quickly turned in his seat to face Rogue so that he could get wanted he wanted to say out of the way first before other things. Winding his fingers around the chain hanging by his neck, Harry pulled the necklace forward so that it caught her eye.

 

                “You wanted to know what this was?” he asked to make sure she still wanted to know. Her eyes were on in speculatively and she nodded slowly. The others were watching them with mild interest; although they weren’t as interested as Rogue just because of some odd necklace. Harry’s lips turned up in a crooked smile. “this,” he shook the pendant to make his point, “is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.” Brows were raised at the rather peculiar and foreboding name.

 

                “The Deathly Hallows?” echoed Rogue. Harry nodded in confirmation. “What’s that?” He flashed another smile at her before answering.

 

                “They’re three gifts that Death himself had rewarded to the three Peverell brothers as a reward for having been able to cheat Death,” he explained vaguely. Now all the faces at the table turned sceptical. Well, almost all anyway. Rogue and a few others laughed.

 

                “So they’re from a fairy-tale then?” she asked. He gave her a mock contemplative face in return, but shrugged. “Is it interesting? How do they manage to cheat death?” Here he allowed a sly smile to slip onto his face.

 

                “I have it here actually,” he patted his mokeskine pouch. “Do you want to hear it?” he asked somewhat seriously. He didn’t want to bore them unless they truly wanted to listen. He watched as Rogue turned to the rest of the table’s occupants and asked them what they thought. Most gave nonchalant shrugs and why not’s. So, she turned back to him.

 

                “Alright, we’re listening,” she gave the rest another glance, “well, _I’m_ listening at least.” Harry chuckled as he reached into his pouch and felt around for the book that Hermione had given to him as a gift – the copy that Dumbledore had given her in his will. Rogue seemed to watch his movement amusedly as his whole hand was inside was his pouch, which wasn’t very big either, and he seemed to be sifting around other objects too. _What a mysterious bag_ , she thought. With an ‘aha!’ Harry pulled out the worn book and brushed it off gently. Flipping through the pages, he got to the right page. He cleared his throat as he placed the book on the table and began to read just as he’d heard Hermione read those many years ago.

 

                “There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road, at twilight.” Harry smiled as he recalled the outburst from Ron who had insisted that his mother had used ‘midnight’ instead. “In time, the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass. But being learned in the magical arts, the three brothers simply waved their wands and made a bridge. Before they could cross, however, they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. It was Death, and he felt cheated; cheated because travellers would normally drown in the river. But Death was cunning; he pretended to congratulate the three brothers on their magic and said that each should earn a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.” Harry risked a glance up and saw that by then, some of the other boys were trying to inconspicuously listen in whilst acting like they weren’t. He shook his head and silently chuckled as he read on.

 

“The oldest, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. So Death fashioned him one from an elder tree that stood nearby. The second brother decided he wanted to humiliate Death even further, and asked for the power to recall loved ones from the grave. So Death plucked a stone from the river and offered it to him. Finally, Death turned to the third brother. A humble man, he asked for something that would allow him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And so it was that Death reluctantly handed over his own cloak of invisibility.” Looking up at intervals more often, he saw as each person’s eyes lit up at various Hallows that appealed to them. Naturally, the wand and stone appealed to them the most. Then again, to them, the invisibility cloak was almost useless considering there were mutants that could already do that on their own anyway.

 

“The first brother travelled to a distant village, where with the Elder Wand in hand, he killed a wizard with whom he had once quarrelled. Drunk, with the power that the Elder Wand had given him, he bragged of his invincibility. But that night, another wizard stole the wand and slit the brother’s throat for good measure. And so Death, took the first brother for his own.” Some of the more mature individuals, such as Rogue and Warren, were obviously beginning to catch on as to where the story was headed. They smiled ruefully as they listened to Death get his revenge on the three brothers.

 

“The second brother journeyed to his home; where he took the stone and turned it thrice in hand. To his delight, the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared before him. Yet soon she turned sad, and cold, for she didn’t belong in the mortal world. Driven mad with hopeless longing, the second brother killed himself so as to join her. And so death took the second brother.” Harry watched with intrigued eyes as Warren and Rogue shook their heads or just smiled pitifully; whilst the others hadn’t any reaction – most likely thinking about what happened to the Hallows itself than its owners.

 

“As for the third brother, Death searched for many years, but was never able to find him. Only when he attained a great age did the youngest brother shed the cloak of invisibility, and give it to his son. He then greeted death as an old friend, and went with him gladly; departing this life, as equals.” At the ending, he sat back up straight and saw that Rogue looked satisfied with the ending, Warren rather contemplative, whilst the rest off thinking in their own worlds.

 

“So,” he plucked up his necklace once more, and tapping the bisecting line on the middle. “The Elder Wand; the most powerful wand ever made,” he quoted, trying his best to recall Xenophilius Lovegood’s words as he had drawn the sign for them. Spinning the circular bit, he intoned, “the Resurrection Stone.” And finally sliding his fingers along the edges of the outer triangle, “the cloak of invisibility.” He dropped the pendant as he finished off, “together they make the Deathly Hallows. Together, they make one Master of Death.”

 

Retelling the story seemed to have inspired a serious tone in him which he hadn’t planned on. So when his eyes slid back up, he could see that the others too were surprised at the seriousness he held. Trying to shake it off, he pulled a crooked smile. “Pretty cool, huh?” Most of them seemed to shrug off Harry’s odd behaviour and continued conversation. Only one or two seemed to seriously contemplate the story.

 

Somewhere in the other end of the hall, Charles Xavier opened his eyes slowly to the not-so-pleasant scowling face of Logan Howlett. He smiled, knowing that the other could no doubt have heard Harry’s story with the help of his enhanced hearing. He himself had been listening in with a little bit of effort.

 

                “Master of Death?” Logan repeated, “what kind of fairy tales has _he_ been grown up with?” Xavier cast him a somewhat sad smile.

 

                “Ah, but Logan, you should learn to look into things a little closer,” he commented softly. Beside him, he had noticed some of the others had gone silent and were listening to their conversation. “Harry does not strike you as someone who would wear a necklace such as that just for show, am I wrong?” Beside him, Jean was nodding slowly. Logan too seemed to reluctantly concede to Xavier’s observations. Even though they hardly knew him and he sometimes came off as a child to them, Harry had an air about him that exuded seriousness. Almost like an unconscious aura of sorts.

 

“So,” Xavier continued, “why would he wear a symbol of a fairy-tale?” He left the question hanging for his students to think about as he smiled and returned his attention back to the table of youngsters Harry was seated at. He was going to have to catalogue Harry’s story into his file for future reference. Also the fact that the story’s focus had included _magic_ was something that piqued his interest and would also be included for him to look into later on. Considering the “game” in which Harry had proposed, he deduced that he would be able to gather some more important information if he were to look in at the table through someone. After all, teenagers will be teenagers; and he was sure his students were all very eager to show off their powers. Whether they knew of his ‘game’ or not; Harry would still be obligated to give something in return anyway – the children will make sure of that. He emptied his mind as he concentrated on looking through one of his student’s eyes.

 

                “-start,” Xavier caught Bobby at the end of his sentence. He watched as Bobby re-enacted a trick he heard he had done to welcome Rogue to the school – creating a rose of ice. Harry’s face lit up at the sight and hesitantly, he picked up the cool flower, examining it in slight awe.

 

                “This is bloody _brilliant_ Bobby,” he breathed, his more British side showing already. Then, a frown tugged at his mouth as some ideas ran through his head. Deciding swiftly, he swept his gaze across the table.

 

                “Just a minute,” he said, “you finished?” Indicating to Bobby’s plate, Bobby glanced down at it and then back at Harry in confusion but nodded anyway. Harry flashed him a reassuring smile as he grabbed it, scrapping some of the leftovers into the plate Warren had offered up and set it between them. Then, he gingerly placed the rose-like sculpture in the centre of the plate. He looked up to grin at Bobby whose brows were raised questioningly. Pursing his lips in determination, Harry concentrated, touched his finger to the edge of the plate, and non-verbally cast _aguamenti_.

 

There were pleasant exclamations of surprise and excitement in reaction to the plate filling up with water. Acting swiftly, Harry plucked some left over vegetables from someone’s plate and ripped them into smaller pieces, then scattering them on the plate. Finished, he sat back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

 

                “There,” he said, “a pond!” The smile on his face was bordering on idiotic, but he felt good. Bobby laughed at his comment.

 

                “It’s a rose,” he argued, “roses don’t grow in ponds.” Harry’s smile faded as he registered that information, and then smacked himself on the forehead slightly, rolling his eyes.

 

                “Right…” he said lamely. A moment later though, he shrugged nonchalantly. The table’s attention was soon stolen by Pyro, who gave a mock scoff at their light banter. He leaned forward from his seat, left hand emerging from his side with a metal lighter which he flicked open with a click and lit it. With a twist of his wrist, the flame flowed fluidly from the lighter to the plate, surrounding it and melting the flower. Pyro’s face twisted with a cocky smirk at his handiwork and flicked his gaze up to catch Harry’s reaction. Harry’s eyes had widened, impressed. In his mind, he was wondering if the boys, like their powers, were opposites too. It was highly possible – with what he’d seen so far. At the same time, a brilliant idea came to his mind.

 

                “Watch this,” he said cheekily as he reached into his pouch again, digging around for another smaller pouch. He pulled it out, undid the tight drawstrings, and plunged his hand inside it – pulling out a small amount of powder. Pyro watched it with a raised brow, wondering what he was up to now. “Might wanna scoot back a bit,” Harry warned, “this might be a little messy.” Everyone scooted back a little bit except for Pyro who just smugly settled into his seat to watch. Letting out a breath and eyeing the powder in his hand, Harry mentally steeled himself, eyes closed. When he opened them, he threw the powder up into the air, promptly pointed at it and quickly cast a non-verbal _incendio_.

 

Fire erupted from his fingers and devoured the dark powder. Once the two came into contact with each other, the fire roared, increasing in size and the flame turning an eerie green hue; smoke billowing from it. Some shouts of surprise erupted from the tables around them and gasps were soon to follow. Many students from other tables were peering over each other to get a look at the odd fire. As the powder was pulled back down by gravity, the flame began to diminish after steadily eating up the powder.

 

Harry smiled and enjoyed watching his handiwork until it dropped into the ‘pond’ and sizzled, going out. The powder was regular floo powder than he had in his pouch in case he ever needed it. It wasn’t necessary to cast the spell, but he had figured it would’ve looked much more spectacular than just a regular flame. As he turned his attention back to the others, he saw most of them gaping.

 

                “You can control elements?” guess Rogue. At first, all of them were incredulous and was puzzled over the fact that he had two powers. However, looking at it that way made much more sense. If Harry could control the elements, that meant he could not only make water, but fire too. Harry pursed his lips in thought about her statement.

 

                “Hmm.. not exactly _controlling_ them..” he started, “it’s kind of hard to explain,” he shrugged. “If you want to, you can ask Professor Xavier or Professor Logan,” Bobby, Pyro and                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Kitty held back scoffs at his calling Logan a ‘Professor’. Giggling, Kitty spoke up next.

 

                “My turn,” she turned in her seat to face Harry who waited expectantly. Gently placing her hand on his chest, she looked up at him to smirk before glancing back to her hand. Harry’s gaze followed hers and widened to see her hand pass _through_ him. The first thing that went through his mind at that moment was _ghost_. He relived memories of the ghosts at Hogwarts phasing through walls and people alike – but whilst he felt a sickening shudder when they passed through him, he didn’t feel anything at all from her. Mouth gaping open, an awed smile split his face as he began to laugh. Kitty smiled and felt sort of surprised at his positive reaction to her odd power before withdrawing her hand and sitting back. Harry’s face turned thoughtful and he tapped a finger to his chin repeatedly whilst in thought.

 

                “Okay it’s a pain to explain to you the whole story, so you’ll have to check with your Professors another time, but basically what I’ve told them is that for anything you reveal to me, I’ll reveal something of equal value back to you about myself.” Harry began to say, raising brows. “I don’t exactly have anything in my arsenal that is like _that_ ,” he indicated to Kitty’s hand, “and the only thing I can think of is…” trailing off, he got up and pulled Kitty to her feet as well.

 

Once up, he cast a simple sticking charm to her shoes and then stepped away from her. Motioning with his hands for her to come to him, she made to move and almost fell head-over-heels when her feet didn’t move. Staring incredulously at her feet in confusion, she tried to lift her leg up and found it immovable. She turned an open-mouthed stare at Harry who was grinning back. Shrugging, he cancelled the charm and Kitty felt as if she had suddenly been released. Testing out her legs, she found that she could move again. Looking back up at Harry, a corner of her mouth twisted up in delight as she ran over to him and threw an arm around his shoulders playfully.

 

                “That’s crazy! What _was_ that?” she asked him as they went back to their seats.

 

                “Uh.. a charm; of sorts,” he answered vaguely. Kitty seemed satisfied with his answer though, as she didn’t question him further. When they were back at the table and seated, she seemed to turn her gaze expectantly to Warren. He, however, seemed a little reluctant. Not wanting to force the boy to reveal his powers if he was uncomfortable, Harry spoke up. “You know, you don’t _have_ to show me anything,” he gave a noncommittal shrug for added effect, “it’s just a little fun.” Warren seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.

 

                “Well.. It’s not like I don’t _want_ to show you,” he started, looking around at his friends. Since he had came to the institute, they had been very welcoming and encouraging for him to accept his ‘gift’ and not be ashamed of it – something he had been trained to feel since young because of his father. “But maybe not here. It’s a little.. obtrusive.” Harry raised a single brow with a small smile, already curious. “I’ll show you another time if we’re outside,” Warren decided in finality. Harry nodded in understanding. Finally, they all turned to Rogue. Or at least, he did. The rest glanced at her cautiously, as if aware that she may be the one who didn’t want to show him hers.

 

                “Rogue?” he said, having seen the looks on the others’ faces. She was looking at him from under her dark lashes bashfully hesitant. He gave a reassuring smile in her direction.

 

                “My power’s not very cool,” she said slowly, almost whispering it. “I can tell you what it is though; but I can’t show you.” Cocking his head to the side, Harry nodded for her to continue. She drew in a breath before continuing. “I can.. sort of ‘borrow’ other mutant’s powers for a short period of time; by touching them.” Harry frowned.

 

                “Okay…” he said slowly, “what’s wrong with that?” A self-loathing look crept into her eyes and Harry immediately felt guilty for pushing.

 

                “It’s just, it’s painful to the mutant I touch,” she said, “they could die if I touch them for too long too.” Shocked, Harry merely stared at her for a moment. When Rogue didn’t hear any response, she flicked her eyes back up to see Harry watching her speculatively. He seemed to be staring at her gloved-covered hands. She beat back the urge to hide them behind her and just waited for him to say something.

 

Harry was contemplating what the implications of Rogue’s powers could have on him. He wasn’t really a mutant; so would it work on him? And that also answered the question of why Rogue seemed to wear very conservative clothing all the time – it had been quite odd for him when they first met because he had thought girls her age would enjoy showing off some skin. When he thought about it some more, he realized just how that would have affected _her_. The poor girl would be literally starved of affection! Knowing first-hand what that felt like, he was determined to test out what would happen if he allowed her to touch him. But not right now. He would have to give it some more serious thought first. After all – if she _did_ manage to take his magical powers anyway, even if momentarily, it could end up being disastrous.

 

                “Rogue,” he finally called out, taking one of her gloved-hand in his as a gesture of reassurance. He knew that the kids would probably ask Xavier or Logan about him sooner or later and they too already knew he wasn’t exactly a mutant per say. “I’d like you to try it one day,” he said to her surprise and horror. “I’m _different_. I’m not a mutant, but I can’t tell you what at this stage.” To loosen the tense atmosphere, he gave her a casual wink, adding, “that’d ruin the game.” Everyone’s brows went straight up at the casual attitude of Harry towards Rogue’s very _dangerous_ powers. “But for now,” Harry continued, “I think it’s time for me to turn in. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” They nodded dazedly as he smiled and excused himself; retreating to his room.

 

Xavier pulled out of the connection then, already cataloguing the new information he had gathered. He was becoming increasingly interested in this boy. His abilities seemed endless! Also that last statement had him impressed at the audacity Harry showed – he had already approved of him because although he acted like someone who could be deadly, his attitude seemed to mean no harm to them. Added to his statement to Rogue, he was sure that Harry was a kind man if he was willing to risk himself to help her. Returning his attention to the staff at his own table, he cleared his throat softly to gain their attention.

 

                “As you all know, we’ve had a new _guest_ here at the mansion since today. His name is Harry Potter-Black. I would appreciate it if you make him feel as welcome as possible here; although I’m still unsure if he would like to study under us as well. For now, I believe it would be wise to let him be to decide what he wants to do. I will speak with him tomorrow.” The table’s occupants all nodded understandingly, “Another thing is that the boy has proclaimed a ‘game’ of sorts.

 

“To my knowledge, the boy is in fact, not a mutant. He has, however, no qualms with revealing himself to us gradually. According to the rules set out by him, if you were to show him something, anything, he would try to reciprocate the gesture with something of his own in return. None of you are under any obligation to do so, but if you do, I would like it if you inform me of anything you find out about him.” Murmurs ran across the table which generally spoke of the staff’s willingness to do so.

 

“Logan,” the Professor spoke seriously, turning to the man in question who grunted to signal that he was listening. “I would like it if you could watch over him.” Logan choked slightly and turned to the man incredulously.

 

                “What? Do I _look_ like a good babysitter to you?” he asked sarcastically. Scott snorted and he flipped him off.

 

                “I didn’t mean it that way, Logan. I mean, get to know him. Although it’s obvious that your personalities definitely clash with one another, I know that you’ve noticed the way the boy carries himself. I think that you’re the best choice to be able to truly understand him.” Logan snorted, _yeah right_.

 

                “Well Logan,” Scott cut in with a mocking tone, “maybe it’d even help you too. You know, you could end up being besties!” Logan turned and growled at him, glaring menacingly. Xavier held up a hand to placate the men.

 

                “Now now Logan, I think that is possible too. If you both manage to get past each other’s barriers, I think you both would very much enjoy the company of another who understands.” Logan grit his teeth at all this mushy friendship talk.

 

                “Whatever,” he said noncommittally.

 

                “ _Logan_ ,” the Professor called out as he was making an escape from the table of idiots.

 

                “Yeah, yeah I know. Fine, I’ll do it,” he finally considered. Xavier smiled. “But no promises.” He promptly left, but the smile on Xavier’s face didn’t fall.


	5. Warren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Harry spent the next day wondering the grounds of the mansion. He had gotten a good night’s sleep and woke up in a good mood; especially considering he got to sleep in. He awoke just before lunch and decided to take a stroll around the grounds to admire the place he was in. The building was surrounded by green and occasionally he would stop to sit down and just do nothing. At the moment, he was approaching a wooden bench that faced the mansion and had its back to the trees. He sat down and leaned back, letting out a long breath and closing his eyes; enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.

 

Thinking back on the events of yesterday, Harry was quite pleased. The children here were very welcoming. Although he believed that it was because here, they were all accepted for what they were and what they could do, instead of being shunned. It made him feel sorry for them that the reason why they had such an accepting attitude now was because they themselves were not accepted before and now that they were, they want to make sure everyone else would feel the same too.

 

A smile tugged at his lips in satisfaction for his ability to be able to control his magic whilst casting spells non-verbally. Since he had confirmed his status of being ‘Master of Death’, he had quite a hard time accepting it. He recalled having trying many methods to rid himself of the title but always it was all fruitless attempts. The last straw was when he had secluded himself for nearly a year and Hermione had had enough and practically broke down his door in her rage. She had given him the telling-off of his life then with Ron standing meekly behind her, casting him apologetic glances at his wife’s outrage. After that, she had practically pulled him by the ear to accept his fate and not mope. She made him take up many things to try and pass him time and also take his mind off things.

 

Being the ever-optimistic Hermione, she had gushed over the ‘endless things’ that _she_ would’ve done if she was in her place instead of moping around. One of them that had caught his interest was to practice wandless magic. It was quite simple really. He wasn’t sure why nobody had thought of it before. Then again, apart from their resident genius Hermione, the rest of the magical community _were_ pretty dull. When he had asked her how she would go about doing it, she had explained her theory to him.

 

All magical children get a letter from a school of magic at age 11 to begin training to control their powers. Before they began, they would get their necessary equipment. A part of it was – a wand. Sure, in school, every spell they cast relied on their wand; incantation, movement, determination. However, she had said, look back to _before_ a child assumes magical schooling. It is evident for those who were muggle-born to be able to tell of their child’s power whenever something ‘strange’ would occur. Usually, these were the oddest of things that were caused by strong emotions such as anger. Harry himself too recalled having made the glass of a reptile exhibit vanish in a fit of anger towards his cousin; Dudley.

 

So, she had concluded, witches and wizards _were_ capable of doing magic without the use of their wands. The only obstacle was that it relied heavily on the castor’s emotions. She had reasoned that that was possibly why magic was done with a wand as a medium. If they relied on wandless magic which was so heavily affected by their emotions, things could go awry without them meaning to. He had bashfully expressed his interest in looking into the subject to Hermione and she agreed to help him with it.

 

Over the next few years, he practiced it in the confines of a fortified basement in his manor and would occasionally consult Hermione with any problems he had had. He had discovered that, like what he had done when he was 10, he was able to do a number of things that they didn’t have spells for much easier wandlessly. He mastered those sort of actions first – as evident with him closing the door to Professor Xavier’s office yesterday.

 

After that, he had begun to take on spells without a wand. It took him a couple of years to get around focusing his magic appropriately. Hermione had explained to him that even if he pulled it off, the spells he cast without a wand would most definitely be considerably weaker in strength. This was because he was used to using the wand as a medium, and also because the wand provided a focal point in which he could focus his magic and release it with much power. Whereas wandless magic was different as there was no specific output area. He decided that it was easiest to use his hands as his output and spent the first few years training to gather his magic specifically into his hands.

 

After that it wasn’t too hard to cast the spells. Following that, he had approached Hermione about wandless and _non-verbal_ spells. She had raised some brows at that but encouraged him to give it a try anyway. By then, she was already in her late seventies. Controlling those types of spells were disastrous as they discovered the incantation to a spell was very important. However, he managed to get it down.

 

He still practiced whenever he could, because it was evident that his wandless and non-verbal spells were nowhere near the power of casting by wand. He had finally gotten confident with his skills just before Ron had passed away, and he would often visit them and perform them to them, their children and their children’s children as some entertainment. Hermione was very pleased with his progress and although she kept silent, he knew by the look on her face whenever she thought he wasn’t looking that she was happy he wasn’t as bothered by his immortality as before.

 

After Ron had passed away, she had opted to spend more time with him in her final years. They would spend days just relaxing and talking. Her death was probably one of the hardest for him. Normally, he was quite composed during his friends’ funerals. But hers was the only one he had cried at. He had shared many things with her in those last years, and every time she was there to support him and get him through it. He truly owed it to her that he was able to move on as well as he did.

 

One of the things he had asked her – with much trouble – was whether she would mind if he were to ever use the Resurrection Stone to call her. She had thought hard on it and replied that he shouldn’t rely on it too much, but if he felt like he really needed to, he was definitely welcome to call on her. Since her death, he had considered it many times, but never followed it through.

 

The anniversary of her death was approaching, and he was thinking of calling on all of them just to tell them about his trip so far. After all, they were the ones who had prompted him to do it – so he owed it to them to let them know how he was doing.

 

Thinking about all his friends, he rummaged through his pouch and pulled out an old photo, weathered at the edges. It was a photo of all of them, back in their fifth year – they had taken a photo of the whole DA for a commemoration. He spent the next couple of minutes staring at his friends chattering and smiling up at him, as if it was still their fifth year. He didn’t hear the whirr of Xavier’s wheelchair as he approached.

 

                “Hello Harry,” a warm voice called out to him. He jerked in surprise and leapt of the bench, body crouching into a defensive stance on instinct. When he realized who it was, he let out a sigh of relief and straightened up, sitting back down awkwardly and apologising softly. Xavier laughed and waved it off casually. “Miss home?” he guessed, glancing at the picture in Harry’s hand. Harry too glanced at it and smoothed it out carefully.

 

                “Well, not exactly,” he replied, “just reminiscing I guess.” Xavier watched him speculatively.

 

                “May I?” Harry glanced at him and saw his outstretched hand, asking for the photo. Harry gave it a thought before handing it over. Xavier smiled and studied it. His eyes widened as he gazed appreciatively at the photo.

 

                “A _moving_ picture!” he exclaimed delightfully, “how extraordinary.” Harry smiled at the reaction. “Is this something your people have?” Harry nodded.

 

                “Yes, all their photos move. Even those in the papers.” Xavier nodded, looking back at the picture. He saw a group of students in uniform standing in a rather grand yet empty room. He found it peculiar that at the moment of the ‘flash’, none of the students were smiling, although they seemed perfectly happy before it. However, he didn’t ask about it. He also noted that almost every student was holding a stick of sorts in their grasp. _Wands?_ he thought. It was still early on, so maybe he’d make that guess another time as he filed it away in his brain.

 

                “Was this the school you talked about?” he asked, handing the picture back to Harry, who nodded in affirmation. “Do you miss your friends?” Another nod.

 

                “Very much.” Xavier hummed.

 

                “Why did you decide to travel abroad then?” he questioned lightly. “Surely you could have stayed with your friends at home.” He watched with a slightly guilty pang as the shine in Harry’s eyes dimmed a little and he looked down, gaze far away.

 

                “They’re all gone,” was all he said.

 

                “Gone?” Xavier repeated. It probably wasn’t wise to push, but he was very much curious. Was all of these children dead? How had that happened? Was Harry being on the run from something thus causing him to flee here?

 

                “It’s… complicated. But don’t worry, they all died naturally – they weren’t murdered or anything.” Xavier frowned at the confusing response from Harry. He decided to stop there though, before the man closed himself off from him completely.

 

                “Well, I came here to ask you if you had given any more thought to the prospect of you staying at the mansion long-term.” Harry looked surprised; as if truly believing that he had only offered it to him out of politeness.

 

                “Not really actually,” he answered sheepishly. “Do you need to know soon?” he added, not wanting to give them any trouble.

 

                “No,” Xavier reassured him, no doubt knowing what was going through Harry’s overly-polite mind when he asked, “it’s just that if you’d like, you could be enrolled here too.” Harry’s face went blank before shock overtook his features.

 

                “But,” a crease between his brows appeared, “I’m not a mutant.” Xavier merely smiled in response.

 

                “The school is for _gifted_ children, Harry, not just mutants. Anyway, our main aim is to help the children learn to control their powers.” Harry suppressed a smirk rather unsuccessfully. “Although actually,” Xavier continued, “did you not mention that you attended a boarding school back in Scotland?” Harry nodded an affirmative. “Am I right in that it was a school meant for..” he searched for a word, “those like you?”

 

                “That is correct, Professor,” Harry smiled. Xavier’s face seemed to light up in interest which only amused Harry further.

 

                “Oh! How intriguing. You must tell me about this school of yours sometime. I would love to hear about it; if that is alright with you, of course.”

 

                “Of course. But yes, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Harry said somewhat slowly so as to not confuse himself, “the school did indeed teach us what you’re trying to teach them,” and with a simple flourish of his hand, indicated the large stone building that was the school. Xavier made an understanding face.

 

                “Well then, how about a teaching position?” he asked the boy a little teasingly, knowing he wouldn’t take it up. Harry let out a bark of laughter.

 

                “I’ll think about it,” he replied, surprising Xavier pleasantly. “I did tell you I was a part-time lecturer, didn’t I?” he added mischievously. Xavier laughed warmly and acknowledged that.

 

                “Indeed you did,” he said. Then, as something came to mind, he continued, “if I may, was it at your former school?” Harry gave a small smile with a quirk of his lips and nodded.

 

                “Yes, it’s quite ironic really – me taking the job,” Xavier noted that Harry’s eyes seemed to go a little distant for a short moment as he most likely thought of his home and relived memories. “Quite a notorious job too.” Xavier’s brows went up in interest; no doubt about to ask why. They were interrupted, however,  by a familiar voice calling out Harry’s name. They both turned to see Rogue and her group of friends approaching them.

 

                “Ah, looks like classes have finished for the day,” Xavier noted as he smiled warmly at the students approaching them. Harry too smiled and pushed off the seat to stand and greet them politely. Harry watched with a trained eye as Rogue came up to them excitedly, but stopped short just in front of him. His gaze softened as he smiled at her, and slowly he reached out an arm to wind around her waist in a mock-hug. She seemed to be shocked and tried to pull away slightly but Harry was having none of it and looked as if he didn’t realize it as he pulled her close in as much of an embrace he could.

 

                “How was school?” he asked conversationally as they waited for the others to catch up. She looked up at him, surprise still in her features, before she shot him a sceptical look and laughed.

 

                “Harry, you sound like you’re my dad or something,” Harry flushed a little, having forgotten that the people here treated him like his physical age instead of his true age.

 

                “Right, sorry,” he apologized a little lamely, causing both Rogue to giggle and Xavier to chuckle softly.

 

                “It was alright though. Same old,” Rogue answered his question with a shrug anyway. The rest were almost all there and chattering away with each other, the Professor included. Warren was the last to arrive and Harry noted that he was studying the forestry around them and the wide open space they were in quite raptly. His attention was soon stolen by the Professor speaking to him in a low voice which wouldn’t be heard by the others.

 

                “By the way, I wanted to confirm something with you about your ‘game’, Harry.” Harry nodded to let him know he was listening. “If any one of us were to make a guess at something about you and it was right, you would confirm it, would you not?” Harry’s lips were pulled up fluidly into a sly smile.

 

                “That’s right. It’ll help speed along the process for you, right?” he said flippantly. Xavier nodded and turned his attention back to others, signalling that that was all he had wanted to say. Harry too turned away just in time to see Warren approach him with a bright, if not a little hesitant, smile. Harry called out to him and they grabbed hands in a fond greeting that Harry had seen many young men do in the States. Hermione and Ron’s daughter, who had helped him do some research on countries for his ‘trip’; had aptly named it a ‘man-hug’ – which had caused him to laugh.

 

                “Harry! Um so..” Warren was becoming steadily more unsure in whatever he had had in mind. Harry tilted his head a little as he watched him struggle for words, suppressing a chuckle.

 

                “Yes?” he prodded, deciding to give him a little push. Warren seemed to him like someone who would be very polite to others and try not to get on anyone’s bad side. Probably grew up in an environment where it was better to just do what he was told with no questions asked. To get past that, Harry would need to show him that he was in no way causing him any trouble. Warren’s eyes flicked up to him and back down to the ground.

 

                “I was wondering if you uh, still wanted to.. you know, see my mutation?” another peek up, “of course, you don’t have too. Nah, it really doesn’t make much of a difference. I mean, it’s not as cool as the rest anyways, and I –” Harry’s brows were steadily rising upwards in amusement as a sympathetic look passed his features at the boy’s ramblings.

 

                “Of course I would Warren,” he cut in before the boy ran off or something. “Every one of your powers is unique. I wouldn’t dare to miss out on yours,” he shot Warren, who had looked up then, a reassuring smile. Warren’s eyes brightened at his response such that it caused another thought to come to Harry. _Was he one of those mutants that grew up in a home that shunned them because of what they were?_ He couldn’t help the frown that creased his brows before he snapped out of it at Warren’s expression that showed him worrying that Harry was rethinking his words. “Well? We haven’t got all day,” Harry smirked. Warren stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and stepping back a few paces.

 

                “Stay there,” he held up his hands to motion for Harry to stay. Harry watched in interest and raised brows when Warren began stripping off clothes from his top half. Rogue and the others were all giving off various smirks and comments to one another behind him. Xavier himself was quite happy to see the boy being happy to show off his ‘mutation’. As opposed when he had first come to them. He wheeled himself beside Harry as they watched patiently.

 

Finally, Warren took off the shirt he was wearing as his last layer and Harry’s brows furrowed when he saw taunt leather straps running vertically and horizontally across Warren’s torso. He did, however, roll his eyes when he heard the two girls behind giggling to themselves. Warren tugged on the ends of the straps to undo the clasps and Harry tilted his head when he thought he saw something white peek from behind Warren’s shoulder. His eyes widened and he let out a gasp when the last strap slid off and Warren rolled his shoulders, a pair of magnificent snow-white wings extending from behind him. Unknowingly, Harry’s face split into the biggest smile at the sight, his eyes lighting up as his gaze took in the sight before him.

 

                “This is.. amazing, Warren,” Harry breathed in a hushed tone. Warren, who was watching his reaction, smiled at his words. Then, he blushed a little in embarrassment when his ‘friends’ began whooping and woof-whistling. “Can you..” Harry began to say, reclaiming his attention. “Can you fly with them?” Warren saw something in Harry’s eyes that he couldn’t really identify as he nodded affirmatively. “Brilliant.” Warren flashed another happy smile in response. “Do you fly often?” Harry began to come closer as he continued.

 

                “Yes. I couldn’t really do it before..” he trailed off as his gaze became slightly distant, thinking about his father, “but once I came here, the Professors said that I should exercise using them more often.” Harry nodded, agreeing. _Why have such an incredible gift and not make use of it?_

 

                “How fast can you go?” Harry had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Warren a little wary of his intentions.

 

                “I’m not sure exactly, but it’s pretty fast.”

 

                “Show me?”

 

Warren blinked at him for a second before grinning and taking a step back. With a few strokes of his wings, he was launched into the air. He glided for a second before he pushed himself to fly around the perimeter of the school once at full speed, before setting back down gently once more.

 

                “That was absolutely incredible, Warren,” Harry said just as he touched down. Warren rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment at the praise but thanked him.

 

                “Now your turn,” he said with a little more confidence, giving Harry a crooked smile. Harry took a deep breath and crossed his arms, nibbling on his bottom lip as he thought about what to do. All of them watch him with amused expressions as his eyes dart back and forth every time he thinks of another possibility – muttering under his breath all the while. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he speaks.

 

                “I’ve got it!” Everyone laughs a little at his exclamation and Harry begins to rummage through his pouch. He frowns when he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for and mutters something that not even Xavier manages to hear. The next moment, he’s pulling out his hand which was curled into a fist. The others step forward to get a closer look as Harry turns to Warren. He doesn’t immediately open his hand to reveal what he has hidden in it. “Okay, so, it’s a little confusing, but there’s this sport that my friends and I used to play at school,” he begins to explain.

 

                “What’s it called?” Warren asks.

 

                “Uh.. you wouldn’t know it,” Harry says. Warren shoots him a look that says _try me_. “Quidditch,” Harry says simply. Rolling his eyes at their confused expressions. “Told you you wouldn’t know it.”

 

                “Well, explain it to us then,” Bobby cut in. Harry gave a little wave of his free hand.

 

                “Um, maybe another time. Right now, there’s only one part of the game I want you to focus on,” he raises his closed hand so that it draws everyone’s gazes. “The game involves many different types of players and also different types of balls. The different player positions determined which ball their focus was on.” Harry looked up to see if everyone was following him. They all nodded and he continued, “this, is one of those balls. It flies on its own and the aim of the player assigned to it was to catch it. The team whose player catches it first wins the game.” At everyone’s nod again, he began to uncurl his fingers, revealing the golden snitch. He heard Rogue give a small gasp at the sight of the ball. He smiled, remembering how he himself had said; _I like this ball_ , in his first year.

 

Harry ran his thumb across the cool metal, coercing the snitch into unfurling its own set of wings lazily. He took in everyone’s gaping faces and turned to Warren, smirking indulgently. “So,” he said, getting Warren’s attention. “Want to give it a try?”

 

“What?” Confusion passed Warren’s face as his eyes flickered between Harry’s face and the snitch.

 

“Catching it. Do you want to try to catch it?” Harry repeated.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” said Warren lamely, “sure.” Harry raised a brow.

 

“Don’t be fooled. If you slack off, you’re not going to get it,” he warned, lifting up the snitch between his forefinger and thumb, studying it. “the snitch is, in fact, what decides the game.” Warren’s brows were going up as he took in the sight of the tiny ball, evidently sceptical about it. Then, he quoted Wood, his captain during his first year; “you catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Warren, and you _win_.”


	6. Quidditch, Kurt and Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Harry nodded to Warren to standby in flight, which he did, beating his wings softly in preparation. He tossed the snitch lightly into the air softly allowing it to hover where it was for a moment – before shooting off. His sharp eyes, not dulled by the years thanks to keeping himself occupied with the snitch himself often, kept a steady look out at the snitch. From the corner of his gaze he could see that Warren had already lost the snitch; obviously underestimating its speed. The other students too were furiously whipping their heads back and forth, searching for a sign of the golden ball. Rogue seemed to be smart enough to catch on from Harry’s intent gaze, following it.

 

                “Warren!” she exclaimed, claiming his attention and he followed the direction her outstretched arm was pointing at, to see the snitch hovering almost tauntingly before zooming off again. Serious this time, he struggled to keep an eye on it, but managed and beat his wings harder. Not a moment later, he was off and after the snitch. The others were cheering him on and occasionally pointing out the snitch’s position whenever he had lost track of it.

 

Harry looked over his shoulder when he heard Xavier’s warm laugh at the children’s fun. They exchanged warmed smiles until the Professor picked up the approach of others from his alert mind. He wheeled himself around and Harry turned his gaze to follow, turning his body slowly. They watched as Logan and a strikingly tanned lady with contrasting white hair coming toward them.

 

Logan had on his usual put-out expression as the trudged along, whilst the woman emanated a friendly feeling. Both they gazes were enraptured by the scene before them in interest. As they came up, both greeted the Professor in their own way. Logan then began muttering something to the Professor that, judging by their expressions, was rather mundane things.

 

                “You must be the Harry I’ve been hearing about,” the soft voice of the woman catching Harry’s attention and he turned, eyes flicking upwards to meet the warm gaze of the unfamiliar woman before him. She was smiling at him softly which he returned; instantly liking this woman for no reason whatsoever. He chuckled at her comment and extended his hand to her politely.

 

                “Well, hopefully nothing too bad,” he commented lightly as she shook his hand. “Harry Potter.”

 

                “Ororo Munroe,” she returned in jest.

 

                “You’re a professor here too?” Harry motioned to the Professor and Logan. Ororo nodded. “Brilliant, maybe I’ll sit in on one of your classes someday eh?” She smiled brilliantly.

 

                “Of course, you’ll always be welcome anytime.”

 

                “Harry!” they were interrupted by Warren’s voice. Both turned to see him touching down lightly, a triumphant grin spread on his face as he held out the snitch grasped in his hand proudly.

 

Harry turned to nod at Ororo before making his way over to Warren, Ororo following behind him curiously. Warren handed over the golden ball to Harry carefully – as if wary that it might slip out and dash off again.

 

                “That ball is freaking fast dude!” Warren commented. “Is it okay if I borrow it sometime to train with?” Harry nodded obligingly.

 

                “Sure, Warren. It’s a good idea, I’m sure it’ll help to get you used to fast speeds and improving your reaction time,” Harry noted. Warren beamed at him happily and then his eyes flicked to Ororo’s form beside Harry.

 

                “Hey Professor, you gonna show Harry what you can do too?” Ororo laughed at the straightforward question as the other children reached them and all began muttering their agreements towards that.

 

                “Well I don’t know…” Ororo said slowly, touching a finger to her lips in a mock-thoughtful pose, taunting the kids. “Should I?” They all exclaimed positive answers practically immediately which caused her to laugh again. She turned to Harry, her gaze questioning. He caught her look and shrugged noncommittally.

 

                “It’s completely up to you really,” he commented in passing, waving his hand dismissively. He didn’t want for everyone to think they had an obligation to show him their abilities. Ororo seemed to catch on to his intent and smiled at his consideration.

 

                “Well, it’s a bit dangerous, so I’ll have to keep it a little low-key for now,” she said, taking a step back and raising her arms beside her. She tilted her head upwards as her gaze grew distant and her eyes were clouded over in white. Harry watched with raised brows, impressed, as her body began to levitate off the ground. Then, the wind around them picked up and began to swirl around them.

 

Harry held out a palm, fingers splayed apart, as resistance to the wind and watched in awe as the force of the wind increased until it was almost pushing them over. Leaves were picked up by the current and Harry wondered idly if Ororo was able to control the wind precisely enough to be lethal – able to cut into skin easily. He shuddered at the involuntary thought; definitely did not want to be the one to find out if that was true.

 

Too soon though, it was over. Ororo was lowered and the win died down. Her fluttering clothing stilled and her eyes returned to clarity. Harry immediately approached her with an impressed expression adorning his features.

 

                “Wow, that was just… amazing,” Harry gushed, to his embarrassment and the amusement of the others. “Wow,” he breathed out again, admitting; “I really.. have no idea what to do with that.” He ran his fingers through his unruly black locks and scratched his head in thought, absentmindedly chewing on his lower lip. “Um..” The adults were watching him patiently whereas the students not so much. He flopped down onto the soft ground, hands trailing through his hair as he hummed in thought. Nearly a full minute passed before he flicked a sheepish green gaze at Ororo. “IOU?” he whispered shyly.

 

                “Don’t worry,” Ororo laughed. “But now that you’ve extended it, don’t think I’ll let you go without something spectacular in return,” she added, a twinkle in her eye which he noticed with somewhat dread for things to come. She nodded to him before excusing herself to speak with the Professor. Rogue and the others took that chance to come up to him again.

 

                “Harry, you should explain to us that game you were talking about,” she said, to the nodding of the others.

 

                “Yeah, the ball looks really interesting, and I’m already pretty interested in it,” Warren pitched in, nodding to the snitch that Harry had still unconsciously clutched in his hand. Harry hesitated.

 

                “Come on Harry, maybe we could play sometime, yeah?” Bobby nudged him, taking a seat next to him. Harry gave the ground a tight smile.

 

                “That would be kind of difficult…” he trailed off, eyes taking in the garden they were in and the various other mutant students that were lingering about around the grounds; playing, talking, enjoying themselves. “Then again, maybe it _could_ be possible,” he added, thinking about their unique abilities. He could modify the sport to be played by the mutants if they had abilities that would enable them too. Harry let out a laugh when the thought of a few using their gifts to cheat passed his mind. “Alright, take a seat,” he said obligingly, beckoning with his hand for the teens to sit in a makeshift circle. Once seated, he grabbed a makeshift twig to motion with.

 

                “So this is basically what a Quidditch pitch looks like,” he began, scratching in a rectangular in the dirt, filling it with simple lines and circles for the hoops. “There are two teams, and each team has 7 players; 3 Chasers, 2 Beaters, 1 Keeper and a Seeker.” Harry glanced around the circle to watch the others. At his silence, they all looked up at him and nodded, showing that they were following.

 

                “There are 3 kinds of balls used; first, there’s the Quaffle. The Chasers handle the Quaffle, and try to put it through one of the 3 hoops on the opposing team’s side.” Once again watching for confirmation, he nodded at Kitty who had raised a hand.

 

                “What are the rules for passing the Quaffle and getting it in the goals?” she asked.

 

                “It’s passed by hand only – tossed between players. Opposing Chasers can snatch the Quaffle out from the air, but they aren’t allowed to directly take it from another player. To get it scored, they throw the Quaffle through one of the three hoops. Each score is worth 10 points. The hoops are placed vertically,” he motioned with his hands to show how the ball would pass through it and not thrown in like most Muggle sports.

 

                “What happens if you kick the ball or bounce it?” asked Pyro who was studying the drawn pitch. Harry’s eyes drifted to the side in thought. _Obviously I can’t say that we use brooms to play_ , he thought.

 

                “Well…” he began slowly, “it doesn’t usually happen. But I guess you’re not allowed to touch the ball with your feet – no head butts either,” he added after a second-thought. “About the bouncing… well, just try to keep it off the ground, yeah?” At no other questions, he resumed his explanation.

 

                “The keeper, defends the hoops,” he shrugged simply; it was pretty self-explanatory in itself.

 

                “Only one?” Warren asked. Harry nodded.

 

                “Yes, and if they’re out then your team is basically left unguarded,” Harry said, thinking back to his first ever Quidditch game – where Slytherin’s captain, Marcus Flint, had hit a Bludger at Oliver, knocking him out. He noticed the others frowning at his last statement – that was hardly fair.

 

                “What do you mean ‘if they’re out’?” Rogue quoted him, confused. “Why would they be out?” She figured that the player got sent out for bad sportsmanship conduct or something. Harry smirked.

 

                “Well, we’ll get to that later,” he waved it off to the annoyance of the others. “Anyway, the next ball is called a Bludger – they’re nasty ones. The Beaters, are equipped with a sort of bat,” he used his hands to help them visualize its size and shape. “It’s used to hit the Bludger. The Bludger’s usually out to attack the other players so it’s the Beater’s job to negate its path to somewhere where it won’t cause any damage; unless to the other team of course,” he put in mischievously.

 

                “Wait..” Bobby cut in, _really_ confused now; “so the Beaters… are supposed to hit the Bludger _at_ other players?” At Bobby’s summary, Harry caught Pyro smirking rather evilly by his side. He raised a brow at that – already fearing that he had quite the troublemaker in this group. But leaving that matter aside to another time for now, Harry cocked his head to the side thoughtfully and contemplated how to successfully evade Bobby’s question without revealing too much and yet still making sense. With a shrug, he replied.

 

                “Basically, yeah, you could put it that way. Any injuries caused by the Bludger is allowed, and if the player injured is no longer able to continue playing, then he or she is off the field for the remaining duration of the game.” Harry was thoroughly amused by the sight of the girls giving him very incredulous looks – no doubt at the fact that this faux game he was weaving _encouraged_ injuring other players. “It also doesn’t matter where the Bludger goes, even if it hits the ground, as long as you _only_ strike it with the Beater’s bat.”

 

                “What about if another player, say a Chaser, were to take the bat off a Beater and take a swing at the Bludger?” Warren asked. Harry nodded, his memory already flashing back to the memory before once again.

 

                “Well to be honest, I’m not too entirely sure myself. But I’ve seen it happen before, so I’d say it’s allowed; although I wouldn’t encourage it though.” The others nodded in agreement – the game was confusing enough already. If everyone were to just play every player's job, then there’d be chaos and probably wouldn’t be as much fun either. “Any other questions?” Harry watched the students shake their heads, albeit a little hesitantly. “Well, no worries, if you ever get to it, you can always ask me about any questions that arise then.”

 

                “Alright, last and definitely not the least is the Seeker. Now, the only thing the Seeker has to worry about is… this,” he held up the snitch, everyone’s eyes immediately drawn to the ball glittering softly under the sunlight.

“This, is a _snitch_.” Harry held back a chuckle at the various expressions in response to the odd name of the ball presented to them. “All a Seeker has to do is catch it. Before the other team seeker,” he said simply. His lips quirked at the furrowing of brows all around.

 

                “And..?” Pyro prompted.

 

                “That’s it.” Harry replied, grinning at them which only served to confuse them even further.

 

                “That’s it?” Rogue echoed. Harry gave a chuckle and decided to be a little bit more cooperative.

 

                “Once the snitch is caught, the game is over,” he clarified, “It’s the decider.” He saw some people who accepted his explanation, whilst the others’ confusion only increased.

 

                “Wait, if that’s the ‘decider’,” Warren said slowly, “then what’s the whole point of the other player’s efforts?” Harry smirked; _smart boy_.

 

                “Catching the snitch _usually_ guarantees a sure-fire win,” he nodded, “because it is worth 150 points and also ends the game.”

 

                “So…” Kitty surmised what she’d put together so far, “if by the time the snitch is caught, but the opposing team’s score still remains higher than that of the team that caught the snitch, then the team with the highest score wins?” Harry beamed almost proudly.

 

                “Precisely!” he gave her an approving nod which caused Kitty to smile shyly at his enthusiastic praise, “however in most cases, the snitch is caught before something of that nature can occur, thus catching the snitch being thought as the ‘decider’.”

 

                “Kind of unfair though, don’t you think?” Bobby frowned, “it’s kind of like how teachers give a quiz and make the last question worth enough points that almost anybody could beat the person currently winning.” Giving it a thought, everyone nodded, seeing the relation and some – Harry suspected as those who actually bothered to study – grumbled about its unfairness. Shrugging, Rogue turned to Harry when a question popped into her mind.

 

                “Did you play Quidditch, Harry?” She asked curiously. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Warren.

 

                “You were a Seeker, weren’t you,” quite surprised, Harry turned to Warren.

 

                “Well; yes. How’d you guess?”

 

                “Not hard, really,” Warren shrugged modestly, “probably the biggest give-away was that you have a _snitch_ as a keep-sake.”

 

                “Hey, I’ll have you know,” Harry countered, teasingly indignant, “I have a fully functional Quidditch set somewhere in my trunk.” Warren shot him an unimpressed look, although withholding a chuckle. The others were shooting each other not-so-discrete glances, probably trying to formulate a way in which they could get their hands on said Quidditch set.

 

                “Not just that, but thinking back to when I showed you my… wings,” Warren continued, “you had that _look_ , in your eyes.” Harry raised a brow.

 

                “That _look_ ,” he repeated in a monotonous voice. Warren rolled his eyes.

 

                “Not that I’ve seen it anywhere else before… but I imagine that’s what I probably look like, before…” he trailed off, eyes dropping down and gaze distant. Harry studied him for a moment.

 

                “Before you came here,” Harry finished for him. Warren nodded.

 

                “I was never really _comfortable_ with my ability, per say, but I’d always wondered what it’d be like, you know? To just…” he cast his eyes longingly upwards. Harry smiled.

 

                “Take off. I know what you mean,” he nodded again. “Well, now you’re here. You should enjoy what you have,” Harry smiled warmly at him and a look of surprise flitted across Warren’s face, before being replaced by an open grin. They continued to chat between one another, the others also having drifted off into their own conversations. Then, Rogue’s eyes caught something happen behind Harry. With a sudden puff of dark blue smoke, a figure in blue appeared, crouched a little, eyes darting back and forth before landing on the Professor and striding up to him with purpose.

 

                “Hey look, it’s Kurt!” she mentioned to Kitty beside her. They both called out to him and he turned at their voices. The others, Harry included, turned too to see what the girls were waving at. With an almost bashfully shy smile, Kurt meekly raised a blue arm to wave back briefly before nodding to excuse himself and returning back to his task of approaching the Professor.

 

                “Oh, who’s that?” Harry asked lightly. Everyone glanced at him, searching his face almost instinctively. For most mutants, many humans wouldn’t even act differently towards them unless they revealed what they were. Even then, they were immediately cast out. For someone like Kurt who already _looked_ completely unlike a human, there was no comfort in hiding behind denial. He was mutant in pure form and often, that would cause it to invoke the true feelings of an individual towards mutants. It was quite upsetting to say that even some mutants themselves have been known to have shown slight disgust at first seeing Kurt. Those who had experienced the discrimination of mutants first-hand and the hardest, like Rogue and the others, were not so quick to judge.

 

Everyone’s opinion of Harry, already rather high thanks to his carefree attitude and overall friendliness towards others, undeniably shot up when they took in the honest curiosity on his face. Pure curiosity, even with a dash of interest and a possible hint of surprise, were the only things found on Harry’s face. Rogue and Kitty both broke out in huge smiles, both turning to each other and having a silent conversation immediately. At their staring, Harry’s face morphed into confusion, slight panic and worry.

 

                “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, quickly becoming flustered. This caused the group to break out in laughter at his expense, which only confused him further. “Is there something on me?” Bobby shook his head.

 

                “No, no. Just.. just some stupid stuff between us is all,” he waved Harry’s concerns away. Harry pursed his lips, a little skeptical. Rogue and Kitty, had already overcome their own bout of giggles and were watching Kurt with rather intent eyes. As soon as he seemed to have finished his business with the Professor and looked ready to disappear once again, Kitty raised an arm.

 

                “Kurt! Hey Kurt! Over here!” she called out, waving her hands maniacally, Rogue doing the same beside her. The man turned, surprised once again, his features unsure. However, since the girl’s persistent calling didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon, he decided to make his way over. Approaching, he bowed his head respectfully towards the group of students.

 

                “Yes?” he asked, eyes on the girls. His voice was slightly husky and held quite an accent that Harry couldn’t place in hearing just the brief word.

 

                “Have you met Harry?” Rogue asked, immediately shooting out an arm to point at Harry. Kurt blinked, then followed the length of the arm to rest on the unknown man in their group. At his gaze, the man’s eyes flicked up to meet him and smiled. He felt an odd warmth in his chest at the smile, something similar to what he had experienced when he had first spoke with Ororo – an openness that didn’t judge him at all.

 

                “Ah.. no,” he said in a soft-spoken voice. “Nice to meet you, my name is Kurt Wagner,” he bowed at the man whose lips quirked in an amused smile. It was quite an awkward meeting, considering Harry was still sitting on the ground and Kurt was standing over them. So, Harry brushed off his pants and heaved himself up.

 

                “Pleasure to meet you,” he extended a hand to Kurt, “Harry Potter.” Kurt stared at the open palm for a moment before remembering his manners and quickly grasped it, shaking fervently. Harry beamed at him, and Kurt smiled shyly in return. They were interrupted, however, by a familiar voice.

 

                “Excuse me gentlemen,” they turned to see the Professor and Ororo beside them. “I see you’ve made an acquaintance with one another,” he added approvingly, eyeing their still clasped hands. Harry nodded whilst Kurt pulled away as if slightly embarrassed. Harry noted that the Professor seemed to eye Kurt in a way that seemed like he was happy with his open interaction with others. Harry made a small mental note to get to know Kurt a little more at that; maybe get him out more too.

 

“Anyway, I will have to excuse myself for now, Harry,” Xavier continued, “Kurt here has just informed me of the return of another colleague of mine and a… stowaway of sorts. So, I will have to leave you in the care of my students,” he gave the group a pointed look that told them to behave, “whilst I meet with them. Kurt, you may stay with Harry and the others.” Without another word, they went off on their way. Harry turned back to Kurt and opened his mouth to say something, but movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and his frozen state made him seem like he was gaping as he stared at Kurt’s swishing blue tail.

 

                “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kurt apologized automatically, pulling the tail back behind him and out of Harry’s sight. Immediately, Harry’s eyes shot back up to meet his and Kurt was confused at the almost pleading puppy-dog eyes that stared at him. If he knew any better, he would have compared them to those of a child who was dragged away from something he had found amusing.

 

                “No, I uh–,” Harry stumbled around his words. When he had caught sight of the odd tail, he had felt an inexplicably childish urge to catch and study it. His hands clenched at his sides in an effort to keep still. “Sorry, I just- that’s wicked,” he breathed, having given up on making an appropriate excuse to appease the man.

 

                “Excuse me?” Kurt almost squeaked out, incredulous.

 

                “Your tail. It’s bloody brilliant,” Harry said, hardly even paying attention, his body swaying to the side as if to try and get a peek of it again, “can you fully control it?” Frowning at Harry’s straining to the side, Kurt hesitantly swished his tail back into the his line of vision and gave a small smile of amusement when Harry’s eyes immediately lit up, brows raising up and lips splitting into a grin – an almost childish expression of glee.

 

                “Uh, yes. I can uh—use it to balance mainly,” he said, doubting Harry was really even listening to him, “and fight, sometimes,” he added in a whisper. Harry’s head whipped back to look at him, surprising Kurt that he _had_ paid attention.

 

                “Really?” he asked, “brilliant,” a breathy word of praise that had Kurt smiling a little wider. Finally reigning himself in and pulling it together, Harry tore his gaze away from the odd appendage and gave Kurt a once-over. “Is that your mutation then?” he asked simply, as if asking the weather, “your tail and your skin?” His fingers gave another little twitch and sighing, he decided to go for it; hoping he wasn’t coming off as too forward. “May I?” he extended an arm towards the other. Confused at what Harry was asking for, Harry made another beckoning action and he extended his arm to Harry who grasped it firmly and took a step closer, examining his skin like it held precious secrets.

 

                “No, I—”

 

                “Oh, right, you said you could fight, didn’t you?” Harry cut in, eyes still intently studying the blue arm in his hands, fingers tickling Kurt as it traced the strange markings on it. “I’m guessing hand-to-hand?”

 

                “Yes,” Kurt nodded, “but my main ability is neither to fight nor my appearance.” This had Harry looking up in interest.

 

                “Really?” he said, “you’ve been holding back on me, have you?” Harry teased lightly. “Well, is it okay if you show me?” The brightness in Harry’s eyes, shining with excitement and also the overall positive vibe he was giving off spurred Kurt to do so much more easily than usual. With a small, unsure, quirk of his lips, he disappeared in a puff of dark smoke. Harry’s mouth literally popped open and he jumped when he was tapped on the shoulder and spun around to see Kurt smiling sheepishly behind him, waving.

 

                “Holy shit!” he swore, then quickly covered his mouth shyly at the uncharacteristic swearing. “Can you go anywhere?” he asked the first thing that popped into his mind. He was thinking of a wizard’s apparition. It needed the user to _know_ the destination and have physically _seen_ it themselves to be able to apparate there, which was a limitation. He wondered if maybe Kurt only needed to have a vague idea of where he wanted to go to be able to do it. “Do you..” he was about to ask if Kurt could use it in fights, but he thought it wasn’t a wise conversation to have so easily, so left it aside for now, shaking his head.

 

                “Only places I know,” Kurt answered, seeing Harry’s shoulders drop with a bewildered expression. “Is there something wrong?” Harry shook his head.

 

                “No no,” he laughed, “just a thought.”

 

                “Harry,” Bobby’s voice cut into the conversation. They’d both almost forgotten all about the group beside them. Harry looked at Bobby to continue expectantly. “It’s your turn,” Bobby said, with a raise of his brow. “Don’t even try to evade this just because Kurt doesn’t know the rules.” Kurt looked between the two, confusion blooming on his face as he silently watched for an explanation. Rogue beckoned for him to sit beside her, which he slowly did, and she leaned over to explain the situation to him. Harry sighed.

 

                “Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Harry sneered back playfully, “I’m getting there.” Shaking his head despite the smile on his lips, Harry waited until Kurt and Rogue had finished whatever they were up to before shooting the group a smirk – fully expecting the reactions to come. Then, his body broke down and disappeared in a burst of _white_ smoke, before the almost figure-like smoke shot towards the group; eliciting shouts of surprise. He weaved between the figures seated on the ground skillfully before returning to his original spot and the smoke gave way to reveal Harry’s form once more. Waving away the quickly dissipating smoke, Harry burst into laughter at the gaping face before him.

 

Flying, was a slightly different form of apparition. Harry hadn’t even known it’d existed until his fifth year and had saw the feat executed in the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries. He had been completely befuddled by it and had asked Professor Lupin awkwardly about it sometime later, after he’d calm down from… Sirius’ death. Lupin had explained the deviation of apparition that had been cleverly developed by, who else, Albus Dumbledore in an effort to be able to get to a location without immediately teleporting, but still at an immense speed, and also being fully in control at the same time. It was ingenious really. Although it was however, one of the things Snape had had to pass knowledge of to Voldemort to appease his questioning of Snape’s loyalty. After all, if Snape was supposedly Voldemort’s spy in the Order, how would he not know of the art?

 

After the war, however, many of his mentors and original members of the Order of the Phoenix had passed on, Harry hadn’t had any way to learn the skill. It was quite funny how in the end he had learnt it from his own portrait of Dumbledore some time later. He didn’t think the shadows of the person the portrait was would be able to do something as in-depth such as that. It was the portrait hung in Hogwarts that had first let him know that he, in fact, could do so, and Harry later used his own personal portrait of the man to learn the skill.

 

                “What the hell?” His thought process was interrupted by Pyro’s unbelieving outburst. It only served to bring back the others and soon Harry was flooded with various exclamations. He listened and sorted them out accordingly and patiently.

 

                “No way.” Kitty. A squeak from Rogue, no words uttered.

 

                “Incredible,” a breathy note from the ever polite Warren.

 

                “Holy shit,” articulate enough from Bobby. However, Harry was only concerned with one reaction. Turning, Harry watched Kurt’s frozen frame expectantly. Slowly coming back to himself, Kurt’s eyes looked into Harry’s.

 

                “That was… amazing,” he said reverently. Harry broke out into a huge grin and he gave into shuffling a bit at the amount of praise that came after.

 

* * *

 

                “Harry,” Xavier calls out to the man returning to his room after an uneventful dinner. Harry turns around at the sound of his name and nods at him respectfully, halting in his movements and waiting as the Professor comes to him. “Yes?” he asks.

 

                “You remember what I asked you about earlier today,” the Professor said in a slow tone, Harry chewed on the inside of his lips as he thought back.

 

                “You mean…” he tried to remember what the Professor was most likely to be referring to. As he double-checked the conversation between them, he had a feeling that the Professor wasn’t talking about the first few questions they had exchanged, such as the one asking if Harry was interested in attending the academy; more of the side-question he had asked whilst awaiting for Rogue and the others to come up to them. “You mean when you asked whether I would confirm the validity of any assumptions you make about me?” Xavier nodded, impressed that Harry had picked the exact question he had in mind.

 

                “Yes, I would like to know if that extends to assumptions that you may be hesitant about revealing,” Xavier asked, his tone treading carefully and meaning well. Harry frowned.

 

                “Oh,” he said lamely, “well I…” truth be told, he wasn’t really sure himself really. He turned to study the man beside him and decided to go with his instincts. “Truthfully I don’t really know myself. But I think after all you’ve done and also the fact that Mr Coulson had trusted you enough to allow me to stay here… I wouldn’t mind sharing some details with you. However, if they’re much more personal then I would have to ask you to keep it between us.” He doubted the Professor would really ever be able to find out the _really_ personal details about him on his own though.

 

                “That isn’t a problem Harry,” the Professor nodded in agreement, “of course, depending on the information, I would probably choose to withhold some of my assumptions to myself regardless. There are after all, many things that I know about the people who reside in this building who even my other Professors are unaware of. Do not worry, if I deem it personal enough to me, I will not share it with anyone unless given your express permission or you reveal it yourself of your own free will.” Harry smiled in return, thankful at the Professor’s understanding for privacy.

 

                “Alright; I’m guessing you have something you want to guess at, then?” Harry said, lightening the mood. Xavier chuckled warmly.

 

                “Well, I guess I’ll jump straight to it then,” he said. At Harry’s nod, he looked Harry in the eye seriously before continuing. “ _Are_ you the Master of Death, Harry?” Harry blinked. Then blinked again, his expression going into blank shock and jaw dropping. His lips moved as he tried to say something, but didn’t make a sound. Finally coming back from the shock, Harry laughed softly.

 

                “Wow,” he breathed, “you really _are_ good, aren’t you?” he chuckled when the Professor gave a nonchalant shrug in response. “Well, what makes you think that?”

 

                “Oh, a number of things really,” the Professor replied. “But before that, I have one more assumption to make.” Harry’s brows shot up.

 

                “Another one?” he asked incredulously.

 

                “Oh yes, are you ready for it? If you’d like I could ask another time,” the Professor smiled both kindly yet slightly teasing. Harry chuckled in resignation.

 

                “Alright then, let’s hear it.”

 

                “Are your powers…” Xavier stalled for a dramatic effect and also to watch as Harry began to fidget more and more in anticipation. “due to _magic_ , Harry?” This time Harry’s jaw really did drop.

 

                “Blimey,” Harry chuckled out breathily, running a hand through his hair. “You win,” he laughed, “you definitely win.” Xavier too laughed with him. Harry turned a little more serious and turned to face Xavier, nodding, “yes, that’s right. I’m a wizard.” Xavier nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t seem to be very shocked. “How’d you figure it out?” Harry asked, really interested how his vague answers up to now _still_ managed to give him away.

 

Xavier nodded and led them to his study which was not too far along. Inside, he closed the door and motioned for Harry to take a seat. Charles cleared his throat before he began explaining some of the clues that led him to firmly believe in his assumption. “Yesterday night you told the children a story about that necklace,” he pointed to the same one still resting on Harry’s chest, glinting dully. “And as you know, my mutant ability depends on my mind,” he said, tapping it lightly, “and after exercising and being able to control it, I also make full use of its other functions, such as memory. I took down a copy of the story you told to the children for future reference if need be.”

 

                “Now, aside from the story itself and its implications, I focused more on the characters themselves. If the story was that of one read to your people, I would imagine the characters to be as such as well. So, the most notable quotes that I read would be two main ones which were,” Xavier picked up a piece of paper and slid it over to Harry. Glancing at it, Harry realized it was a handwritten copy of the Tale of the Three Brothers. There were two small highlighted area. Charles continued after he looked up again, “these two: _‘waved their wands_ ’, and _‘learned in the magical arts_ ’. Now, those were hardly much to base assumptions on so I would have to gather some more information. Little were you aware how much a small gesture may seem in the big picture, the clue that made me sure of myself was in the picture you showed me this morning.”

 

                “If you recall, you showed me a photo of you and your old classmates at school,” Xavier watched as Harry nodded, recalling the picture taken of Dumbledore’s Army in his fifth year, “well, I happened to notice an oddity in it; and that was that most, if not all, of the students held in their hands, small pieces of wood.” Harry’s eyes began to widen in realization. He hadn’t even thought about it like that! Sure he was aware that the picture had shown them with their wands in hands, but he wasn’t aware the Professor would’ve made a connection between that and the tale from yesterday.

 

                “So as I said, I immediately remembered that line, ‘ _waved their wands_ ’, and felt that for sure, that was exactly what they were; wands. After that it wasn’t hard to realize that the passage ‘ _learned in the magical arts_ ’ was meant rather literally and could be translated to mean that you _were_ indeed, learned in the magical arts.” Xavier sat back in his seat contentedly. Harry too leaned back and let out a breath, whistling slightly.

 

                “Incredible,” he said, shaking his head. “But hold on, Professor. If you already knew that I did magic, why did you ask me about the Master of Death title first?”

 

                “Ah, well you see Harry, if I were to jump the gun, per say, it would be quite the leap. However if I asked that question first _and_ the answer was an affirmative, it would then seal the fact that you are, in fact, a user of magic, yes? Because if you reveal to me that you _are_ the Master of Death, then that proves that the story is real. Which then leads me to understand, that the characters, who use magic, would be real; and that’s you.”

 

"Now anyway, I actually called you aside for a seperate matter actually," Xavier said before Harry could respond. "I am to inform you that Agent Coulson notified me today saying that he would be paying us a visit sometime soon. I'm not too entirely sure about it, but it seems that he said he will be bringing along someone who you would nee to see." Mind still reeling from processing all that had happened tonight, Harry merely nodded numbly, not too worried about whatever Coulson decided he needed to do. Excusing himself for the night, he retired to bed.


	7. Logan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

The days following passed with no sense of urgency. As the Professor had already said, nothing changed and he kept their conversation between them strictly private. Other than the occasional knowing glance at one another, Harry was able to slowly get used to waking up in the Mansion. Harry found that the past few days was an unusually pleasant lifestyle mostly spend wandering around the grounds and just doing nothing. Of course, every now and then boredom would set in and he’d look for something else to do. That was when he remembered what Ororo had told him a few days ago. So, with that in mind, Harry began to ask around with the Professors and would occasionally sit in their classes, listening attentively, interested in learning about their lifestyle and also getting a peek into Muggle studies at the same time.

 

Outside of classes, Harry would get close to some of the adults that were neither students nor Professors; such as Kurt. As intended, he and Kurt began to grow an unexpected friendship towards one another and Harry would say they were already quite close. He was pleased that Kurt was much more open with him now and they would often just flit about the grounds at random spots, talk about anything, or just enjoy each other’s presence. Neither pushed to know too much about the other and it was a comfortable friendship. He found that he liked Kurt as a person very much; soft-spoken, but extremely polite and kind; never having a bad word to say about others. In a way it was kind of like seeing a bit of himself. He suspected the other had his own problems in life, what with his troublesome appearance and all, but never delved too much into it.

 

Harry had also found out the two ‘visitors’ whose arrival Kurt had announced to the Professor the first time was an ex-student of the Professor, Hank McCoy, who was currently working for the government in the Department of Mutant Affairs; and Remy LeBeau, a nomadic mutant that was familiar with many members of the school’s staff. Harry had bumped into Hank and the Professor once as they were exiting Xavier’s office, and Xavier had been eager to introduce them. Hank came off to Harry as a polite and open individual, whose interest in Harry was clearly visible in the light of his eyes. They had hit it off quite well and Harry was pleasantly surprised to find Hank very knowledgeable, almost as much so as the Professor himself, and thoroughly enjoyed in-depth conversations with him about anything and everything.

 

Hank himself was quite impressed at the young man’s behaviour around him. From the moment they met, Harry had _never_ looked at him in any odd way whatsoever. Even the closest of his colleagues, before getting to know him, had shown at least the smallest flicker in their eyes at his gruff and imposing appearance. Harry had seen him and only seemed to smile _brighter_. He had enjoyed watching Harry’s reactions to his enhanced abilities which Harry found a little hard to match. As a passing comment in one of the conversations where he had told Harry about his interest in science and would often act as the X-Men’s physician, Harry had then brightened and offered to detailed to him some of his own medical skill repertoire. Harry had opened up to him about him being a wizard, much to his own surprise and scepticism. However, he was intrigued to learn that Harry had quite the understanding and grasp of healing magic which he told him about – but for obvious reasons could not show to him in person. Also since he had already let the secret out to Hank, whom had firmly said he wouldn’t let anyone know either, he also told him about Potions – a topic which interested Hank to no end. They had agreed to study it more together another time, since Hank’s own medical knowledge would probably give some even deeper insight to the Potions.

 

Harry had met Remy by pure coincidence when the man, thinking Harry was a truanting student, had offered to show him some ‘magic tricks’. However, what Remy hadn’t known, was that Harry, who had already started to become used to the mutants showing him up by luring him in with games and then unfairly cheating by using their powers, was a bit more wary this time. Remy had stuck to a simple trick of getting Harry to pick a card and try to pick it again; by keeping his eye on it. Harry had cast a tracking charm on the card he had picked initially and merely put on a show of trying his hardest at watching the card. When the trick was at its end and he was asked to guess where the card was, Harry had looked at the cards in view, glanced up at Remy, then back at the cards with a frown. His fingers tingled with magic as he raised his hand and pointed at Remy saying, “it’s in your jacket.”

 

Remy had been stunned. Harry patiently waiting for him to make a move, but when it became clear that the frozen man wasn’t going to show any sign of moving anytime soon, he simply rolled his eyes and with a pull of his fingers, summoned the card to him himself. Brandishing the card between two fingers, Harry had looked at the still-shocked man and said, “so you’re a magician?” This finally seemed to break Remy out of his daze and close his hanging jaw. His jaw worked for a few moments, not sure what to say when he finally just went with answering the question.

 

                “Uh, no,” he said hesitantly, “I…” with a quick glance around to see that there were no _adults_ around to chastise him and that they were in the open outdoors, he quickly snatched the card back from between Harry’s fingers and drew out his powers. Then, he expertly flicked the card towards the forest where it flew straight to the trees. Reaching one, it sliced its way right through a branch, causing it to crack and fall to the ground with a loud thud. Impressed, Harry turned back to a Remy who was eyeing him as if awaiting a spectacular reaction. Watching each other for just a moment, they exchanged smiles and both immediately decided mentally that they approved of the other.

 

They had then properly introduced themselves to one another and Harry found out the very odd story about how Remy came to be at the Mansion. It was quite an amusing tale that involved poker and some very drunk politicians. Also added on an off-handed note; Hank grabbing him before he could ‘cause any real damage’.

 

It had been just about a week since Harry first came to the Mansion and by then he had just about acquainted himself with almost everyone there. He found himself to enjoy the company of most of the adults, finding them insightful and some very intelligent. Of his own will, he often spent the majority of his time with Kurt, and Rogue’s makeshift group of friends. He had found it quite peculiar that the Professor had not been drilling him with questions since his ‘enlightenment’ all those days ago but didn’t question it. Whenever he bumped into any of the other adults, they would chat pleasantly with one another, often offered him to sit in on their classes, and be on their way. He spent most of his days repeating this lazy pattern.

 

Today, he happened to decide to wander around _inside_ the Mansion rather that its grounds. By then he’d no doubt be able to make his way through the grounds blindfolded if he cared to really. He hardly had the chance to wander all that deep into the Mansion before, neither was he all that interested in it either anyway, so today he ended up finding himself happening along a corridor on one of the lower levels of the Mansion. It was quite spectacular really, although from the outside and the main living areas of the premises, the Mansion held a very olden-era feel about it; but down here even the corridors and doors themselves looked high-tech enough.

 

Harry had to be careful with making sure he was alert and wouldn’t accidently let out a burst of magic in case it interferes with anything vital in the area. He had learnt early on when first learning magic, that although wizards and witches were perfectly able to use Muggle technology, more powerful wizards tend to have to keep themselves in check due to their power unintentionally slipping out and causing unwanted damage every so often. Although, the same could be said about a regular witch or wizard if they were to lash out with magic; it would still cause damage.

 

It was eerily silent in the corridor aside from the casual noises heard now and then from the tech in the area. Harry was beginning to contemplate finding his way back up when he thought he heard some noises a bit off. Curiously, he continued his journey and, considering it was a straight corridor, closed his eyes to focus on listening closely. His ears lead him to one of the many doors and soon he is quite unashamedly pressed up against it with his ear against the door. True enough, he hears muffled noises that are ridiculously soft. _Must be just about sound-proofed_ , he thinks.

 

Harry’s ‘idiotic’ Gryffindor nature makes him practically _itch_ to know what’s on the other side of the door. For a moment his first year encountering three-headed Fluffy flashes before his eyes and he chuckles at the thought. Turning around so as to get into a more comfortable position, he opts to lean against the door as he tries to figure out how he plans to get into the room. He is a bit reluctant to try a simple _Alohamora_ since he’s unsure about what it could do in the long run; short-circuit the door? That would be a bad idea if he decided he _didn’t_ like what was on the other side and had unintentionally set it loose to boot.

 

Whilst he’s pondering this, about two floors above and to the right happens to be Professor Xavier’s office. At the time, Charles was enjoying one of the few quiet times he had to himself. He had taken to wandering along the minds in the Mansion and seeing how everyone was doing. He knew for a fact that there would be some troublemakers underground today and, peeking in, he was pleasantly surprised to find that their resident guest was lurking just outside. It seemed that Harry himself was quite the curious individual if his actions at the time were anything to go by. Smiling fondly to himself, Xavier thought there was no harm in indulging the boy’s curiosity as he gave a tug with his mind and mentally unlocked the door.

 

Back with Harry, he was surprised when the door he was leaning on disappeared and, with a loud yelp, fell straight onto his back. He also noticed that at the moment the door had disappeared from behind him, there was quite a lot of noise that had come out from behind him; mostly the sound of chatter and impact noises. Now, however, as he lay stunned on his back, he vaguely registered that the noise had abruptly stopped, before the sound of whispers soon took its place. Groaning, Harry hefted himself off the ground with his hands and turned, patting his hands absentmindedly on his pants. He came face-to-face with a group of teenagers – clearly students – who were laughing at his expense and a smirking ‘Professor’ Logan.

 

                “Did ya get lost, kid?” Logan said, eyeing Harry in amusement. Harry flushed in slight embarrassment to Logan’s haughty tone and he scowled. He stood up straighter and brushed non-existent dust off his jeans indignantly.

 

                “No, I—” he frowned, thinking back to how the door had seemed to have opened itself just before. “I’m.. not sure, really,” he continued, turning to gaze quizzically at the now-shut door. “I was just outside, and I heard some noise coming from this room,” he recalled, gesturing with his hands, “I couldn’t really get the door to open and I was leaning against it wondering how I’d get in and it just.. _opened_.” Logan grumbled something under his breath.

 

                “Must be Chuck’s doing,” he said in his naturally gruff voice, “Nosy old coot. Well, if he let you in here then there’s really no point in telling you to leave.” Harry raised a brow at Logan’s easy dismissal of his presence. It soon became clear that Logan was going to say no more when he turned to bark at his students to ‘get back to it’.

 

                “Uh…” Harry stood around awkwardly. “So, this is your class?” Logan turned back to face him and gave a sharp nod in response. “Huh. What—” his eyes scanned the students getting into what seemed to be some sort of formation. “What class _is_ this, exactly?” Logan snorted, smirking once more – Harry was beginning to think it was a trademark expression of his; and it eerily reminded him of the smirks Draco Malfoy used to smugly direct to him at school.

 

                “Defence, obviously,” Logan stated. Harry’s brows shot up as his suspicions were confirmed just as he heard the sounds of the fighting begin. He was distracted when he caught sigh of Logan waving him over to a spot against a wall that would ensure that they were out of the way, but still able to keep an eye of everything happening in the room. Once settled, Harry allowed himself to let out some laughter at the déjà vu of the situation. Logan raised his brows – probably questioning Harry’s sanity at the moment.

 

Harry merely waved his hand in dismissal; “sorry, just experiencing some déjà vu,” he said. Logan frowned; _seeing kids sparring in a room gave him déjà vu?_ he thought to himself. “What is this place?” Harry said almost reverently once he had calmed down. Logan huffed, turning his attention back on the runts he was supposedly keeping an eye on and making sure they were playing it relatively safe.

 

                “It’s the Danger Room,” he said simply.

 

                “Danger Room?” Harry echoed, a little confusion colouring his voice.

 

                “That’s the name of this place,” Logan nodded. “It’s built specifically as a place where we are allowed to train with our powers without having to worry about damaging the place.” Rapping his knuckles on the space of wall between them for added effect, he continued; “it’s supposed to be able to withstand quite a lot.” Harry hummed, tracing his own fingers on the wall; _maybe he’d offer to cast some unbreakable charms on the room some other time_ , he thought idly. “So,” Logan’s voice snapped his attention back to the present, “now you know my job. What’s yours?” Harry shot him a mock-incredulous look.

 

                “Hey, I figured that out on my own!” he argued. Logan merely shrugged and gave him a pointed look which caused Harry to sigh. “You know, the Professor already guessed the most vital parts about me there is to know.” Logan’s shoulders raised and dropped – not really caring. “How long have you known the Professor?” Harry asked suddenly. Logan turned his head to the side and raised a brow.

 

                “You’re dodging the question,” Logan commented in a tone that made Harry give him a light shove.

 

                “I’m not, jeez. My answer will depend on how _you_ answer,” Harry met his gaze stubbornly head-on and waited. Logan finally conceded after a while, with a roll of his eyes.

 

                “Not long. A few years maybe,” he answered. “What does it have to do with anything?” Harry didn’t grace him with an answer as he thought to himself.

 

                “But, aside from those that had been under him for _decades_ even, like Hank, he seems to trust you just as much,” Harry noted. Logan shrugged, again. Harry was beginning to think Logan either had a really small vocabulary or he was just always that unsociable and uncooperative.

 

                “Don’t ask me. I’ve always thought Wheels had an odd way of thinkin’” he said. Harry frowned, his eyes dropping down, unseeing, as he thought of how he’d answer Logan’s question.

 

                “Well if the Professor trusts you that much, I guess it shouldn’t hurt too much to say anything…” Harry muttered more to himself than to Logan. “He’s probably got you reporting everything I say to him anyway,” he laughed. Logan let out his own version of laughter and nodded, the corners of his lips twitching up.

 

                “It’s probably ‘cause I have the more of a ‘life story’ to exchange that most,” Logan commented as an afterthought. _Even if he didn’t really remember anything, both he and the Professor could probably make rather accurate guesses anyway_. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw that Harry had turned to face him with a quizzical expression on his face; likely wondering what he had meant. Logan waited, knowing that now Harry would have no choice but to address his question. Or he could ignore it completely, but that didn’t seem like something a person like him would do.

 

                “I was…” Harry tried to start, but then he promptly clicked his tongue in irritation. _Being in the war didn’t make him a war veteran or something did it?_ he thought, _whatever._ “Well the first _proper_ job I got was... as a sort of… government agent?” he ended on with an upturned lilt in his voice, not really sure how to word it. A single of Logan’s brows went up in interest, but he said nothing and merely waiting for Harry to continue. “I was also offered a part-time job as a defence teacher.” Now another brow joined the first one. “It was in the school I attended. I think it started off as a joke really,” Harry chuckled. “for me to take the post.” Seeing Logan’s furrowed brows, he elaborated; “it doesn’t exactly have a very good track record with its teachers. But really I only go every now and then as a part-time thing.” Logan grunted in acknowledgement. “Uh, that’s it. Anything else?” Harry asked a little cheekily, wanting to see how far Logan would go to gather information.

 

                “So you’re an _agent_ , huh?” Logan noted in a slow drawl, “’s that how you know that SHIELD guy?” Harry frowned for a moment as he forgot what SHIELD was for a moment, until he remembered Phil.

 

                “Oh! No. Yes, wait – I uh…” Harry had up a finger, his eyes comically going diagonally upwards as if an ingenious plot just struck him. Calming his thoughts and sorting them methodically, he slowly answered what he could, step by step. “Maybe,” he said first. “Truthfully I don’t know. But I would think that my colleagues were the ones who contacted whoever Mr Coulson works for, yes.” He nodded, seemingly accepting his own answer. “But no, I don’t know SHIELD because of my job. That would be… another department.” Harry was aware that sounded rather shifty and lame at the same time; if that was even possible. Then, going over Logan’s question in his mind once again to make sure he missed out anything, he continued once again. “And I _was_ an agent. I… retired. A long time ago.” _This_ raised Logan’s suspicions.

 

                “A long time ago?” he repeated. Harry looked at him, confused, not sure what he didn’t understand about that statement. It took him a moment to recall the fact that he looked _barely twenty years old_ , and for all purposes, everyone here thought he _was_ twenty-something years old too. _Well; bugger_ , he thought, sighing internally.

 

                “No, I mean, it _seems_ like a long time ago, that’s it.” What a lousy excuse. He was getting out of practice. This was a statement clearly testified by the expression on Logan’s face that told him he didn’t buy any of that. Harry ran his hands across his face, rubbing his eyes. “Look, this is really – ugh, just… ask Professor Xavier will you? If he tells you, this’ll be so much easier,” he practically whined. Logan chuckled.

 

                “Does that mean you don’t care if he tells me?” Logan was fully aware that Charles was a very upstanding gentleman. He wasn’t the type to spill anyone’s secrets, even if they weren’t particularly important to him. He watched speculatively as Harry thought for a moment before answering him.

 

                “Well, for one; I trust him. And if he thinks you’re someone I can trust with the information then… I’ll respect that.” Logan was impressed; his view of Harry went up with the almost philosophical words that had left his mouth.

 

                “Fair enough. Then if he tells me, you’ll have no qualms with exchanging more information about yourself?” Logan asked. “ _Un_ edited, of course,” he added as an afterthought. Harry smiled, although it struck Logan that there was a dullness in his eyes that tainted the expression in a sorrowful way.

 

                “No,” Harry admitted, “rather, it would make things so much more easier really. I –” Harry stopped mid-sentence when a muffled thud sound was heard right in front of them and they both turned to see Kurt emerge, the smoke that followed his teleportation already dissipating. “Kurt?” Kurt nodded at them both in acknowledgement.

 

                “Harry,” he said in an accent that Harry had recently grown to enjoy hearing. “The Professor told me to bring you to his office.” Harry was about to ask what for but Kurt answered before he could. “He said that…” Kurt’s brow creased, clearly confused about the message himself; “that your _guest_ is here?” Harry was immediately reminded of Xavier telling him some days ago that Phil had intended to visit with some ‘guest’. This was probably it. Without a word, Harry nodded to show Kurt that he understood the message and pushed off the wall towards Kurt.

 

                “Hey!” Logan’s voice cut through Harry and he jerked his head around to look at Logan pulling out a cigar – where the hell did that come from? – and casually placing it in his mouth in what seemed to be quite a normal gesture. “Make sure you don’t split after, bub. I’ll be comin’ to see you and the Prof later.” Harry’s mouth opened the tiniest bit as he realized what Logan meant. _He was going to confront Xavier about Harry later_. He looked into Logan’s eyes which were clearly conveying that if he wanted to withdraw the offer to have Xavier explain what he was to Logan, now was the chance. Pursing his lips, Harry decided he wasn’t backing out. Logan was one of the few adults he hadn’t really gotten all that close to since he came, but something about the man gave Harry the feeling that for all that macho bravado, he was a protector.

 

                “Alright,” he said firmly. At the look in Logan’s eyes, seemingly impressed, he smiled. Without further ado, he nodded once more to Kurt who extended an arm. They gripped each other with one arm and Harry, still a little wary of the possibility of being splinched – even though this wasn’t apparition – wrapped the other around Kurt in case. With some effort, they disappeared.

 

Having returned his attention back to his ‘class’, Logan was slowly exhaling the smoke from his cigar. He frowned at the slight annoyance that had hit him when Harry had seemed to tightly embrace Kurt as they prepared to teleport. Clicking his tongue, he goes off to vent his irritation on the poor unfortunate students.

 

* * *

 

Harry and Kurt appeared in the middle of the Professor’s office, and Harry promptly let go of Kurt, waving his arms to  clear away the smoke blocking his vision. He heard Kurt mutter something to the Professor who gave his consent to leave and Kurt uttered a fond goodbye at Harry before teleporting off to who-knows-where.

 

                “Harry. Good to see you’re doing well,” Coulson’s steady voice was instantly recognizable and Harry spun, grin on his face already. His trained eyes flickered once to Coulson’s side to hastily size up the man standing next to Coulson as he strode up to Coulson and they clutched hands in a firm handshake.

 

                “You too Mr Coulson!” Harry said brightly, his attitude softening Coulson’s gaze fondly. Coulson waved a hand dismissively.

 

                “Please, you can call me Phil.”

 

                “Phillip here has brought someone with him who would like to see you, Harry,” the Professor’s voice came from the side. Harry turned once to him to nod in acknowledgement and then turned his attention to the new man. Said man took his cue and stepped forward, extending an arm.

 

                “William Mark Andrews, Mr Potter,” the man introduced himself politely. “It’s an honour.”

 

                “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr Andrews,” Harry clasp his hand formally, catching on from William’s added statement that he was fully aware _who_ and _what_ Harry was; meaning that he was a fellow wizard himself. He also found names like William very intriguing – completely interchangeable. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”


	8. Guest Representative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Harry caught William’s gaze as it flicked to each of the other two occupants in the room a little curiously. Harry raised a brow at William in a silent question.

 

                “Well, Mr Potter, I am aware that you have been granted a considerable amount allowance regarding the International Statute of Secrecy as an acknowledgment to your services in Britain. Although, if I may…” William’s expression silently conveyed the question he was trying to ask but couldn’t; _are these people aware?_

 

                “Oh, well Professor Xavier here is fully mindful of the core details about me; however, I don’t believe that Phil knows,” Harry said, turning a little to glance at Coulson. William’s brows raised as he too turned to Coulson.

 

                “I thought that you were the one that Director Fury had assigned to watch over Mr Potter here?” he asked. Coulson’s eyes widened as he was completely unsure why he had suddenly become the subject of their conversation, but answered nontheless.

 

                “I am,” he nodded in affirmative, “is that a problem?”

 

                “How much exactly about Mr Potter did Director Fury tell you, Agent Coulson?” William said, frowning. Coulson looked between William and Harry, clearly confused with what he had to do with anything.

 

                “Nothing,” he said, too remembering himself wondering why Director Fury had assigned him to watch over an unknown kid. “There wasn’t even a file on him,” he nodded in Harry’s direction. “He just said that I’m to watch over him while he was in the States. And offer assistance with anything necessary.” William had on a _huh, who knew?_ kind of expression, nodding.

 

                “Well then,” he began, “all there is to it is to either have you express your wishes for Agent Coulson to be aware of our… _circumstances_ , or have him excused whilst we conduct our meeting.” Harry’s brows furrowed as he thought about it.

 

                “If I may, what exactly do you intend to ask me, Mr Andrews?” he asked first. Both Xavier and Coulson belatedly realized that the Harry that they had had their first impressions of – young, youthful, cheery; had suddenly been replaced by a much more mature, serious persona. It was quite a drastic change that they both began studying Harry in surprise; wondering if he had had much experience in dealing with people like Mr Andrews often.

 

                “Oh, nothing too intrusive, Mr Potter, not to worry,” William reassured him, “and please, you may call me Will. It’s just standard procedure you see, for our records here in the American Ministry.” Harry’s brows went up – _American Ministry of Magic?_ well; that completely answered everything he needed to know about who William was. Harry shrugged.

 

                “Well, if it’s just the basics, I don’t see any reason why Agent Coulson should worry. I assume that by your statement earlier, Agent Coulson’s superior is aware?”

 

                “Yes, Director Fury is one of the few SHIELD operatives that have been exposed to our presence. Any other employee that SHIELD believes should be aware first needs to be cleared with the Ministry beforehand,” William explained. Harry nodded thoughtfully.

 

                “I have absolutely no qualms with Phil knowing. Especially if he’s the one assigned to _babysit_ me,” Harry shot Coulson a playful look, “he should probably know what he’s in for. So, as a representative, I believe it’s your call on whether or not you deem him worthy of knowing.” Harry watched William’s shocked expression at being given the authority to make the call. He seemed to still have his rationality with him and thought over it for a moment.

 

                “Well I don’t see why not,” William nodded to Coulson. “Well, let us get on with it then.”

 

                “Ah, please, take a seat,” Xavier cut in, motioning for them all to take one of the chairs or sofas strewn around. Everyone thanks him as they take their places, Coulson and William opposite Harry with Xavier by his side, almost between them. William opened his mouth to get started but was promptly cut off when the Professor raised a hand to halt him. All of them turned to Xavier quizzically.

 

                “It would seem that there is one more to join us,” Xavier shot a knowing glance at Harry. Catching it and immediately realizing what he meant, Harry nodded his assent and Xavier mentally opened the door to reveal Logan. “Come in, Logan.” Xavier beckoned. Logan did so, striding in completely naturally as if it was his own office. William had on a slightly perplexed at yet another addition to his awaiting audience. He turned to face Harry, asking if he was sure he wanted Logan to be present at the time.

 

                “It’s alright,” Harry said, turning to Xavier. “You’ll tell him?” Xavier smiled warmly and nodded. At Logan’s raised brow at such an easy win, Harry shrugged. “We both know the Professor would keep his word to me and only speak about me if I said it was okay. Well, I’m saying it’s okay.” Logan snorted, his lips curling into a smirk as he strode over to Harry’s side and took the empty chair on his other side, plopping down unceremoniously.

 

Shaking his head but saying nothing, William cleared his throat to begin once more. He conjured up some papers and a pen – ah, these Americans clearly moved with progress – an act that didn’t seem to faze anyone in the room; Xavier because he was already ‘in on it’ and the other two because they had both pushed it to being a mutant ability of some sort. William shuffled through his papers in a practiced movement, preparing.

 

                “We at the Ministry have come to understand from the British Ministry that you are currently taking an extended, possibly permanent, leave as of August the 11th, after the passing of a Mrs Ginevra Molly Smith nee Weasley; is that correct?” William began in a clipped, professional tone. Harry’s lips pursed and his chest tightened at the mention of Ginny’s death, but he nodded sharply regardless. “Right. Well then, my purpose for coming here today was to confirm and compile some details about yourself for our own records, you understand,” Will said, watching as Harry nodded his understanding silently. “We have procured the basics of your file from the British Ministry already, so I would first like to go over said file to ensure everything in it is as it should be.” Another nod.

 

Xavier was listening to the exchange rather intently, knowing that whatever this ‘Ministry representative’ fellow had to say would likely cover everything he too had first asked Harry all those night ago – probably in even more detail too. Harry nodded his assent once more and William began; “Harry James Potter, born on th—”

 

                “Black,” Harry cut in immediately. William looked up, confused. “Potter-Black,” Harry repeated for his benefit. William’s eyes glanced down at his paper, scanning the information and his eyes lighting up as they understood what Harry meant.

 

                “My apologies,” he said, penning in the correction. “I wasn’t aware that you had intended to take on the Black name. It _is_ possible for you to still retain your title as Lord Black even without doing so, you know.”

 

                “I know,” Harry said calmly, already used to people back in Britain having protested against him taking on the family name of a famously Dark family. “Not that I’m saying your people here in the States may have something against the Blacks like those back in London did; but my godfather was a Black, and if he cared about me enough to entrust his entire family line to me, the least I can do is honour him.” William was shocked that the deceptively young-looking man in front of him had such deep relations with those he loved and his respect for Harry only grew.

 

                “Of course not; I understand completely,” he said, nodding to the corrections made in the paper in approval. Harry lowered his head and extended a hand, motioning for him to continue. “Now then,” William repeated; “Harry James Potter-Black, born on the 31st of July, 1980 to James Potter; Lord of the house of Potter – pureblood. And Lily Potter nee Evans – muggleborn. Thusly, your blood status being of half-blood.” Harry said nothing and nodded at the accurate information. His eyes glanced to his sides to see that Logan and Coulson had both frozen expressions of shock on the faces whilst Xavier seemed to carry a sort of grim understanding on his own. It was barely even the first sentence and already most of them felt like there was too much to digest at once. First, however, Logan cut in before William could continue.

 

                “Wait, you’re born in _nineteen-eighty_?” he asked incredulously, although his eyes seem to be much lighter, as if a spark of hope – for what, he didn’t even know himself – had been lit. Harry turned to him casually, as if Logan wasn’t freaking out at that moment, and raised an elegant brow.

 

                “Yes,” he said, as if completely obvious. Logan still had that incredulous look on his face; and so did Coulson, who was also gaping slightly.

 

                “But that would make you –”

 

                “About a hundred and twenty, yes, I know,” Harry was bemused. “Is there a problem with that?” he added just to rile them up a bit. Logan seemed about to answer before he was cut off by someone else.

 

                “Not at all,” the Professor said in an equally calm – but still quite intrigued himself – tone. “Our Logan here is about two-hundred and twenty himself,” he added as an afterthought; a similarity between the two would probably make it easier for them to get along. Harry’s head turned back to stare at Logan, quite surprised himself.

 

                “You are?” he asked lamely, as if not wanting to get his hopes up for nothing. _This_ reaction Logan was used to. He merely grunted in acknowledgement, mumbling an affirmative that lit up Harry’s face.

 

                “Brilliant!” he breathed. “I’ll be expecting some explanation later when all this is over,” he shot Logan a pointed look, grinning. Logan scoffed.

 

                “Right back at ya, bub.” Logan said, a hint of a smile on his own face. Behind them, Xavier too held a fond expression on his face.

 

                “Excuse me,” Coulson’s voice cut into them all. They turned to see the stoic man still sitting pleasantly, a hand held up with such a serious face on that it didn’t look out of place at all. He seemed to be directing his attention to Harry who showed that he was paying attention. “What exactly is all this ‘blood status’ business?” he asked, eyes jumping between Harry and Will. They both looked at each other and by means of a look – and also some status leverage, William sighed; knowing that he would have to be the one to explain it.

 

                “Mr Potter here and I are _wizards_ , Agent Coulson,” he said to start off. Coulson’s brows shot straight up, but at the look he received, kept his mouth shut about any _more_ questions he had on the tip of his tongue. He decided he would have to interrogate Harry later, sending the boy, no, _man_ a look that said as much. Harry seemed to get it and his own shoulders sagged at the thought of having to endure Coulson’s undoubtedly _in-depth_ questioning later.

 

                “There are three categories in which witches and wizards can be categorized into; pureblooded, half-blooded, and muggleborn,” Will continued with his explanation. “Pureblooded wizards are those that have _no_ human blood mixed into their bloodline whatsoever. Half-bloods would be those that have had both magical blood and human blood in their bloodline, no matter when it was. Muggleborns are those who are magical and born of two completely human parents,” he explained as simply as possible.

 

“To put it simply, if a pureblood were to marry anyone _other_ than another pureblood, their descendants would be considered half-bloods. However, a half-blood witch or wizard does not necessarily mean that they have both a pureblooded and a muggleborn parent. Regardless of however much human blood is mixed in, as long as they are descendants of magical parents, they are considered half-blood. This then means that if two muggleborns were to have children, although neither parties’ parents were magical, they themselves are of magical blood and thus their children would be then labeled as half-blood as well.”

 

Harry could almost visibly _see_ Coulson’s head swimming in that information overload that William had just dumped on them. The only one who seemed to be taking it all in in stride was Xavier, who obviously looked like he was keeping up with no problem at all.

 

                “Alright,” Coulson said slowly, trying to make sense of it all. “I think I get it. Anyway, please, carry on.” William nodded and shifted his attention back to Harry.

 

                “Both James and Lily Potter are recorded to have been murdered on the 31st of October 1981 – at their residence; Godric’s Hollow,” William continued to read off the next bit of information.

 

More brows shot up again. _Holy shit_ , Logan thought, _what’s with this kid?_ He was watching Harry who in turned seemed to be listening to William with a blank expression on his face; seemingly almost as if he was bored. But obviously through experience, Logan knew better. Harry was probably cutting himself off from getting too emotionally involved in whatever William said so that he could just get it over with.

 

The only thing that gave away Harry’s impeccable mask was his eyes – a stunning green that shone with the saddest and most negative emotions that no one should have to have built up and mashed together all at once. Eyes that held a sadness for the loss of loved ones. Grief and guilt intertwined together; accusing oneself for unfortunate events out of their control. Weariness for a life spent running. Bitterness at having drawn the short straw in life.

 

                “Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley nee Evans were your only blood relatives; from your maternal side, along with your cousin Dudley Dursley. This family was with whom you were recorded as being under the care of –” William continued. At that last statement, Harry scoffed quietly at the thought of the Dursley’s ‘ _caring_ ’for him. Although he had to admit that at least Aunt Petunia and Dudley had warmed up to him at least a little towards the end. Shaking his heads out of his thoughts for now, he listened to Will babble on. “—until the age of 11, when you began your schooling at Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; spending only the holidays with your relatives, until you were of age at 17. Correct?” Will looked up for confirmation from Harry, which he gave.

 

                “Your registered wand is 11 inches, wood of Holly with a Phoenix feather core, acquired by Garrick Ollivander. Am I to presume that you are still is possession of said wand?” William asked. Harry nodded again. “May I?” Will asked. Harry’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, a habit of wariness that had stuck on him since the war, before reaching into his left sleeve with his right hand and pulling out the wand fluidly. He carefully passed it over to William who inspected it thoroughly; all the while with Harry’s hands tensely close to his mokeskine pouch.

 

Even now, after more than a hundred years, that wand was the only one that ever felt _connected_ to him. He had been to countless wand stores over the ages to try some out but never again did he get the same connection. He figured that a wand stayed with a wizard forever. Therefore, he was glad that he had opted to attempt to fix his broken wand using the Elder Wand after the Battle of Hogwarts. It had worked, obviously, as Hermione had predicted; thanks to the immense power that the Elder Wand was capable of. As he had said to Ron before; although the Elder wand was powerful, he was happier with his own wand. He recalled the moment he had cast a repairing spell on it – watching as his wand resealed, red sparks flying out of its end. He had immediately known, somehow, that he had succeeded. Picking up the wand, _his wand_ , he had felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though the wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion. Truly, there was no other feeling like it – having his wand in hand.

 

Harry, occupied with his own thoughts, didn’t see Xavier’s avid interest at watching the ‘wand’ and Coulson and Logan’s skeptically raised brows at the thin piece of wood. Harry let out a tiny, contented sigh when his fingers wrapped around his wand once more as William handed it back to him with a murmured word of thanks. Eyes at the paper once more, William continued.

 

                “We are aware that you are _also_ in the possession of another wand,” he said. Harry stiffened slightly. It wasn’t a very publicized thing; him being the owners of the Deathly Hallows, but he _had_ still told a precious few. He didn’t think that the British Ministry would have given such details over to the American Ministry so easily. “15 inches, Elder wood, core of a Thestral hair,” William stated. He looked up expectantly at Harry who pursed his lips and reached into his pouch. Silently summoning the wand, he too handed it over. This time watching William very closely, Harry belatedly realized that while William ‘studied’ the wand, he was also sketching a rough picture of it on his papers. He stole a quick glance and saw that there was another of his own wand too. He didn’t say anything and soon the wand was handed back to him, which he deftly placed back into the pouch securely.

 

                “Very well,” William said, apparently satisfied with his inspection. Following on; “It says here that you were crowned the Triwizard Champion for winning the Triwizard Tournament in your… fourth year?” he visibly frowned. Will looked up to address Harry. “Wasn’t that the year that the British Ministry had banned participation from any student under the age of 17?”

 

                “Yes, it was,” Harry scowled. “Professor Dumbledore had cast an age line around the cup to prevent any underage student from putting their name in it.” His gaze flicked up to meet Will’s, who was clearly going to ask why. “Barty Crouch Junior put my name into the cup. He had been posing as the Auror Alastor Moody for most of that year; through use of the Polyjuice Potion,” Harry’s gaze grew distant and cloudy, repressing shudders as he watched the memories of that year pass his eyes once more. “He purposely influenced the tournament to ensure that I would be one to get to the Triwizard Cup first, in the final task. It was a… a portkey to Tom’s father’s cemetery.” He took in William’s slightly confused face at the last bit and elaborated; “Voldemort’s. They needed his father’s bone for the Resurrection of Voldemort.”

 

                “They?” William repeated.

 

                “Peter Pettigrew was there too. He killed Cedric; because I had been the one to convince him to take the cup with me,” Harry blinked his eyes a few times, averting his gaze to the ceiling almost imploringly. He then let out a cold, humorless chuckle. “They only needed me.”

 

                “For the potion,” William clarified. Harry nodded without looking at him. “A Resurrection potion?” William said mostly to himself – there was no such thing, was there? Thinking out of the box, William’s eyes widened; “You mean –” This time Harry’s eyes dropped down to stare straight into Will’s, a shudder trailing up his spine at the look in Harry’s eyes. Harry’s lips curled back in distaste as he mockingly quoted Pettigrew. He didn’t really know why he was doing this. William clearly had an idea _what_ potion he had meant. Maybe he just wanted to drive the point into the man; make it clear just how real the situation had been.

 

                “ _Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son._ ” Harry’s eyes trailed after an imaginary bone floating through the air. _“Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken,_ ” Harry’s left hand harshly pulled back the sleeve covering his right forearm, thrusting it forward, revealing the faded thin scar which was Harry’s reminder of the event. “ _You will resurrect your foe._ ” Harry’s eyes darted back up to meet William’s wide ones, staring at Harry’s arm in horror.

 

“Yeah he needed me,” Harry finally continued with an unnecessarily sharp bite in his tone. “Voldemort needed me to make himself a new body. One that could overcome the barrier that my mother’s sacrifice had built up against him – the magic that had killed him.” The bite left his tone as he reached the end of the memory; “but I escaped. Our wands connected in a Priori Incantatem, and my parents were able to distract him long enough for me to get myself and Cedric’s body back to the school.”

 

The air was tense and thick. Logan was staring at Harry, seeing the boy – man – in a completely different light. This kid had just about gone through a _life_ of trouble. Logan was thinking that Harry might even have experienced worse things than he had. And he’d probably gone through countless wars. But this, this was personal. Harry’s own friends and family were a part of this. For Logan, he had been fighting for intangible things like freedom or sometimes even boredom. It didn’t affect him personally, so there was no trouble.

 

Coulson was shocked, eyes glued on Harry’s slouched form. Already he had had an information overload about the boy being a wizard and being over a _hundred_ years old. Now he hears that he had some mad _murderer_ after him? His heart ached for the boy, now understanding why Harry’s eyes always seemed to have been so knowledgeable, having seen and been through so much.

 

Xavier’s own protectiveness had him frowning in his seat, absolutely fuming and intolerant at Harry’s life; no one at that young an age should have had to go through what he had. William cleared his throat a little embarrassedly, nodding once to Harry to signal that he had understood and was going to carry on, albeit a little awkwardly now.

 

                “Well, after the Battle of Hogwarts; you were automatically accepted into the Auror Academy with your clear abilities. You were inducted into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in 1999 at age 19 after completing your NEWTs and further promoted to Head of the Auror Office in 2007, age 27.” William’s tone was impressed, his brows raised slightly as he locked gazes with Harry. Harry, never one good with praise, merely shrugged humbly. Logan gave an appreciative rumbling growl, nudging Harry.

 

                “Government agent, huh?” he said with an upturn of his lips. Harry’s eyes dropped bashfully, laughing softly as well and shrugged again in response, mumbling something – probably denies – under his breath.

 

                “I’m sorry,” Xavier’s warm voice politely cut in, “but what _is_ an Auror exactly?” Harry shot an expectant look at William, face a little smug that he could order the man around so easily. With another overly-dramatic sigh, Will explained.

 

                “Aurors,” he said slowly, “are elite units of highly-trained, specialist officers within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of their respective Ministry of Magic who are trained to investigate crimes and other acts relating to the Dark Arts; including apprehending and detaining Dark wizards and witches.” Both Coulson and Xavier nodded minutely, grasping an idea of what that meant.

 

                “So basically magical police, then?” Coulson summed up a little crudely. Harry snickered at William’s expression of being insulted.

 

                “Absolutely not,” Will said, affronted. “One does not simply become an Auror. A witch or wizard must first be _accepted_ into the Auror Academy after meeting the required NEWT results _or_ being of high recommendation. After that, Auror training is very difficult and intensive. Therefore, there are _very_ few individuals who are actually able to qualify to become a fully-fledged Auror.” Harry was extremely amused at the insulted expression on William’s face all throughout his indignant detailing of the process of becoming an Auror. He didn’t expect, however, to be pulled into the argument himself. “Take Mr Potter, for example,” Will added abruptly; Harry’s head whipping back to stare at him with wide eyes. He _definitely_ didn’t like being used as an example. “He was the _first_ Auror to be inducted into the British Ministry of Magic after _seven_ years.” Coulson’s brows went up, his eyes darting to Harry’s face, which was covered; Harry shaking his head and grumbling unintelligently. Coulson felt a small fatherly feeling of pride blossom in his chest at the young man’s expanse. He promptly held up his hands in a surrender-pose to William and signaled for him to continue. With a prideful sniff, William shuffled his papers.

 

                “We are also aware that you occasionally travel to your previous school, Hogwarts, to deliver Defense Against the Dark Arts lectures on a guest or part-time basis, is that correct?” he asked.

 

                “Yes, that’s right.”

 

                “Defense,” Logan’s deep voice intervened once more. Harry turned, lips quirked a little, knowing what Logan was referring to immediately. “ _Against the Dark Arts_?” He said, brows raised. Harry shrugged it off nonchalantly.

 

                “Still counts,” he noted, to a roll of Logan’s eyes. William ignored the bickering two in favor of soldiering on with his task.

 

                “You are the only known person to have gathered all three of the Deathly Hallows, all of which reside in your possession I assume, and thus have earned the title of Master of Death,” Will read off the end of the page. He looked up to address Harry directly, “now Mr Potter, we at the American Ministry are no strangers to your feats. Many of us hold you in high regards especially considering your personality traits that have been evident in your actions throughout your life.

 

“Thusly, I would have to impress upon you just how much responsibility is expected from you when I tell you that we will not be interfering with your possession of these Hallows, Mr Potter. We hope that from what we’ve seen so far, you won’t turn out to be another Dark _lunatic_ who got drunk on power. If you have any doubts at all, we would like it if you surrender those items to be safe-kept by any one of the world-wide Ministries.”

 

                “I understand,” Harry said, completely serious. “I will keep the Hallows, though. I didn’t want to be Master of Death,” Harry admitted, remembering how bitter and angry he had felt walking right into it without realizing. “But I think it would be better this way. The Hallows have already caused so much chaos and havoc in our world. If I have to spend eternity guarding them from falling into the wrong hands again, then I will.” Everyone’s respect for Harry skyrocketed; his selflessness compelling and admirable. William smiled, a real one conveying the thankfulness of probably the majority of the wizarding community around the world. They were all truly blessed to have such a kind and selfless individual such as Harry Potter in their mess of a society.

 

                “Very well,” William nodded, “then, there is only one last thing left.” Harry nodded, feeling relieved to have this over with. “We are aware that due to your… inability to age,” Will put bluntly, “that you have been named godfather to a number of people.” Harry nodded, one end of his lips twitching in amusement as the list popped up into his mind. “Well, we expect that these individuals may or may not intend to pay a visit to you some day; so to make the immigration processes a little more efficient, I would like to go over with you the compiled list of individuals that are your godchildren.” Harry nodded once more, signaling for him to go on. Will glanced at the sheet before him and suppressed a sigh, instead opting to take a deep breath.

 

                “First, from the Weasley line; Rose and Hugo Weasley, descendants of Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermoine Jean Weasley nee Granger. Following; Leonard Stephen Weasley, son of Hugo Weasley and Diana Weasley nee Hayworth. Fred Weasley II, son of George Weasley and Angelina Weasley nee Johnson. Following; Arthur Edgar Weasley, son of Fred Weasley II and Leah Weasley nee Wood.

 

                “Next, Ted Remus Lupin, only son of Remus John Lupin and Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks. Following; Romulus Corbin Lupin and Maia Junos Lupin, descendants of Ted Remus Lupin and Victoire Lupin nee Weasley. Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, descendants of Rolf Scamander and Luna Lovegood. Albert Jones Longbottom, son of Neville Longbottom and Hannah Longbottom nee Abbott,” William slowly ended. Everyone in the room, save for Harry, had their heads spinning with all the names; especially this ‘Weasley’ fellow. There seemed to be endless numbers of them.

 

“I think…” Will said, squinting down at the paper which he had pulled closer to his face, “that’s all.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance, “how sloppy.” At a quizzical raise of Harry’s brow, Will shook his head. “These papers are merely photocopies of ones from your file back in Britain. It seems that there was something scratched in at the bottom but it also seems to be crossed out, and then filled back in again. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be there or –”

 

                “Ah yes,” Harry cut in. Whilst Will had been reading off the barrage of names, he too had been mentally ticking them off his own list. He figured that the last one might be missed out. “That would be Emi,” he pointed out.

 

                “Sorry, come again?” William asked. Extending a finger to point at the dark scribbles on Will’s page, Harry repeated himself.

 

                “The name there. It _is_ supposed to be there. Figures they’d try to write it off,” Harry rolled his eyes. Will’s brows rose, somewhat exasperated at the odd actions the British seem to take. He clicked onto his pen and pressed it to the paper, looking at Harry expectantly. “Emilia Rowena Malfoy, daughter of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy and Rose Malfoy nee Weasley,” Harry recited the names perfectly. Penning them in, William nodded.

 

                “Malfoy?” he repeated the name as he read over it once more. “Ah,” he vaguely commented, understanding. Shaking his head, he though to himself; _all these people in Britain fret on completely unnecessary things! It’s no wonder their Ministry is so weak and often corrupt._ “Well,” he cleared his throat, “that definitely is quite the god-family you have amassed there, Mr Potter.” Harry laughed good-naturedly.

 

                “You’re telling me,” Harry chuckled, “my own friends I understand. Although it seems that their own children have some sort of silent agreement to make me godfather of at least one of their _own_ children too,” he shook his head. William rose from his seat and Harry followed suit immediately.

 

                “Well, that is all I will need from you Mr Potter,” William said, extending a grateful hand, “thank you for your time today. I hope you enjoy your stay here. Don’t hesitate to give us a call if you ever need anything.” Harry thanked him politely, shaking his hand. Just as William had nodded a courteous farewell to Coulson and was about to apparate, he turned to Harry seriously, “thank you again, Mr Potter,” he said, looking Harry straight in the eye. Harry was stunned momentarily, before his brain caught up and supplied him with answers – _Will was thanking him for everything that he’d done. Everything._

 

                “Don’t mention it,” Harry truly beamed, earning a sharp and professional nod from William who promptly spun on his heel and disapparated with a soft pop.


	9. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

For some reason, Harry felt the need to be alone right at the time. With that, he quietly excused himself, mumbling a polite goodbye to Coulson – because how could he ever forget the manners drilled in him all those years ago? – and slipped out of the room in record time; before anyone could say otherwise. It was late afternoon by that time, and many of the resident students were lingering about, making idle chit-chat. Some who he was acquainted to looked up at his approach and had smiled, occasionally greeting him. Harry merely nodded and pulled a tight smile as he made his way around the mansion, heading to his room.

 

Once he was inside, he pushed the door closed gently behind him, sighing at the relief of the solitude feeling that washed over him as he heard the click of the door shutting. Harry then proceeded to completely ignore the lush, alluring sight of his bed in favour of plopping down onto the floor, leaning his back against the side frame of his bed. His legs were pulled up to his chest and his hands wrapping around his knees, breathing in and out steadily, basking in the silence of his room.

 

Since his first night at the Mansion, Harry had taken to accordingly ward and charm his own room with countless different spells – a habit he had picked up from his ‘travels’ with Ron and Hermione when they were 17. Although most were for protection and warding, there were some other ones such as privacy and silencing wards that would allow him to enjoy the safety of the room without having to need to worry too much about his actions and others overhearing or abruptly entering.

 

As Harry himself was unsure what exactly he was doing here, he simply sat there on the ground for some time; listening to the sounds that his wards allowed into the room, and feeling his own heart beat against his chest. He closed his eyes, sighing and leaning back against the bed; in a rare show of relaxation.

 

After a few moments, Harry’s eyes snapped open as a thought flit through his head. Unslinging his pouch from his side and pulling it in front of him, he reached in a hand and muttered soft _accio_ spells. Pulling out, his hand cradled what looked like four thick cards with various coloured edges and pictures on them. Carefully placing aside his pouch, he spread the cards out on the floor, having pushed himself into a kneeling position. His fingers tingled as he gathered a little bit of his magic and whispered “ _engorgio_ ” on each one. Increasing in size, it was revealed that the ‘cards’ were in fact, portraits – blank ones at that. From left to right, he touched them once more to activate them – which would allow the figures belonging to the portraits to freely come and go.

 

First to rush in were: his parents. Flying in almost maniacally whilst still hilariously managing to hold their hands in a romantic gesture, his parents whipped around to face him, and him their golden framed portrait; a soft smile on his face.

 

                “Harry!” his mother’s soothing voice exclaimed, slightly breathless. “How are you, sweetheart?” she turned to her husband and through a silent agreement they took the loveseat in the portrait together, hands still linked. Harry’s father turned from smiling fondly at his wife to his son.

 

                “Hello son,” he said in an equally calming voice. Harry nodded, muttering polite greetings with his parents. He blushed as his mother started cooing at him like a mother doting on her first child; commenting on how much he’d grown and how handsome he looked.

 

                “Um, I’ve got four of you out,” Harry said slowly, “so is it alright if we wait till the others get here?” His parents nodded understandingly just as an unchanged and scowling figure in black swept in to the portrait to the furthest left side – the one with glossy black borders and intricate carvings on the expensive wood.

 

                “Why, Mr Potter,” drawled a low voice that sent instinctive shivers down his spine and caused both his parents to whip their heads towards the sound. “What business do you have, summoning me here?”

 

                “Prof—”

 

                “Severus?” his mother’s voice called out, and Harry winced slightly. He watched as Snape’s eyes widened in an uncharacteristic show of surprise, and Harry flicked his gaze back to his parents’ portrait to see his mum half-way out of her chair as if she could just walk straight out of the portrait, his father holding her steadily. Snape’s expression was totally scandalized, recovering himself quickly and shooting a glare at Harry.

 

                “Hello Lily,” he said as calmly as possible. Harry rolled his eyes as they began chatting. This was probably one of the only times he had ever pulled out more than one portrait at a time. Not long into his thoughts, Dumbledore came strolling in casually into a dark burnt orange-framed portrait; smiling up at Harry in that instantly recognisably wise face and taking a seat in his own replica of his office in Hogwarts over a century ago. Obviously he had heard the other voices and decided to stay silent for now. Harry could see the mischief dancing in the old man’s eyes. Lastly, Ron and Hermione walked into the last portrait – the one with a rich maroon with intricate carvings painted gold. Ron and Hermione too stayed silent, choosing instead to wave at him energetically, beaming up at him so that it caused a soft smile to touch his own lips. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat to get Snape and his parent’s attentions.

 

All three’s attention immediately turned to Harry, making him feel a little squeamish at their intensive gazes. Gathering up some courage, he cleared his throat again before opening his mouth. “Uh..” was all that came from his lips, he had drawn up a mental blank.  He didn’t notice Hermione’s lip curl up knowingly.

 

                “So, how’s your trip going, Harry?” she piped in. Jerking his head up, he stared slack-jawed for a moment before shaking it off and replying her.

 

                “Oh—uh, great! Yeah…” he trailed off. This time Hermione really rolled her eyes.

 

                “Where did you end up? Where is this? How many places have you been to so far?” she began firing off. She knew Harry had to get loosened up before he would get to the point. Harry’s eyes widening, and he held up a hand to slow her down. His peripheral vision caught that all the other adults casually lounging on whatever furniture was present in their portrait; his parents whispering between one another. No doubt that any of them were keeping an ear out to what he was saying though. Sighing, Harry started with answering Hermione’s questions first.

 

                “Uh this is the X-Mansion, in America. I’ve been here since I left so –”

 

                “Wait, you’ve been here since you started?” Hermione cut in, surprised.

 

                “Well, yeah,” Harry nodded dumbly. Hermione frowned.

 

                “Where are you staying? And what in the world _is_ an X-Mansion?” she asked, obviously peeved that she didn’t already know. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically, his teeth peeking from the smile pulling at his lips.

 

                “It’s a sort of boarding school slash asylum for mutants,” he shrugged, shifting into a more comfortable position and propping the portraits up one by one so he didn’t need to crane his neck down to speak to them. Everyone’s brows went up, instantly intrigued. Harry chuckled at the response.

 

                “Mutants, you say?” Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his seat; resting his elbows on his desk and cradling face in his hands. Harry nodded.

 

                “Yes, it’s amazing Professor,” Harry began gushing, thinking about all the lovely people he’d become acquainted to. Everyone’s demeanour relaxed instantly and many had small smiles on their faces as they watched Harry talked animatedly. “Everyone has a unique ability that they can control, and the Professors here help the students learn how to control their powers. I’ve seen all sorts of things!”

 

                “So you’re staying at this... X-Mansion?” Hermione repeated. “How did you get here anyway?” Harry suppressed a cheeky smile as he thought to the events leading up to his arrival there.

 

                “Well, you see; I got here right? But then after a day of just seeing the sights and all that, I got really bored,” he said a little meekly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “Anyway, as you predicted, Ron,” he nodded his head at the redhead. “There were some agents following me around,” he laughed out loud as he recalled them. “They were terrible! They were all wearing black suits and black sunglasses and pretending to be going about their business in broad daylight.” The men; Ron, Dumbledore and James all shared a laugh.

 

Harry continued recounting his experiences for the past week or so to them animatedly, changing his seating position every now and then and using hand gestures to further animate his speech. He told them about the game he had been playing with the mutants, and about all the amazing abilities he’d seen so far. He spoke about the people he had gotten to know, giving brief descriptions of each. His parents often pitched in comments here and there; Ron and Hermione sometimes asking some questions. Dumbledore and Snape kept silent but he knew that they were listening regardless.

 

He then got up to the latest part of speaking with the American Ministry representative, his attitude toning down. He spoke slower, occasionally running his hands through his hair in a nervous habit. He talked about the things that were asked, and what kind of memories were dragged up with them.  Harry laughed at certain parts – such as William’s indignant attitude at Coulson passing off Aurors as the same to muggle police. Throughout his rant, the portraits remained silent; all knowing that Harry didn’t need comforting words. He just needed to vent some of the stress out. Harry smiled as he got to the parts where Logan and he bickered about his half-truths.

 

                “I told him I was a _Defence_ teacher earlier, and when Will had pointed out my guest-appearances at Hogwarts as the Defence against the Dark Arts lecturer, he had turned to me and said; ‘Defence, huh?’” Harry chuckled light-heartedly, already feeling much better by then. Just at that moment, there was a quick rap on the door before it swung open to reveal – speak of the devil – Logan himself.

 

                “What you doin’ talking to yourself in your room?” he said gruffly, striding in like he owned the place – to Harry’s amusement; Logan _did_ seem like the person who probably thought he owned everything. “An’ speakin’ about me too to boot.” Logan smirked at Harry who was still kneeling awkwardly on the ground. Then his eyes drifted down to the four portraits on the ground and he raised a brow. Harry smiled a little cheekily, proceeding to wave at Logan to come closer.

 

                “Guys,” he said, looking down at the portraits – who had all pretended to be frozen save for Snape who was rolling his eyes – and stole one more glance at Logan to see that the man was looking rather incredulously at him; obviously confirming his suspicions of Harry being insane. “This is Professor Logan,” he dramatically gave a flourish of his hands to point at said man. When Logan seemed to make no move, Harry began to make more frantic gestures for him to take a seat next to him. Admittedly quite hesitant, Logan conceded and unceremoniously plonked down onto the floor – thinking that Harry was probably going to drag him into the land of the insane. Turning to Harry, he saw that Harry was jerking his head at the portraits. With a confused frown, he turned to the portraits to see the beaming figures in them.

 

                “Hello!” said a majority of them, shocking him into jerking in his seat a little. His jaw dropped open and he turned to stare dumbly at Harry for some sort of explanation. Harry laughed openly and Logan sobered up a bit at the openness of Harry’s expression – thinking to himself that it suited the man.

 

                “Logan,” Harry said once he’d calmed down a bit from having seen the look on Logan’s face. “Meet my parents; James and Lily Potter,” he nodded and pointed at the portrait with the brilliant gold framing. The two inside them offered greetings and respective nods, smiling at Logan. He could see quite the resemblance as he glanced at Harry to compare them. The most outstanding quality he inherited were the eyes he got from his mother. He offered up as much of a grin he could that would not look menacing, saying hello to them in return.

 

“My best friends; Ron and Hermione Weasley,” Harry continued, motioning to the Gryffindor-framed portrait. The two adult-aged people waved quite enthusiastically at Logan; Ron squeezing Hermione’s hand to try and keep her from interrogating Logan right off the bat. Logan was immediately reminded of the whole barrage of _Weasley_ people that had been mentioned in the list of Harry’s god-children earlier and raised a brow at the couple; but offered a quirk of his lips at them regardless.

 

“Professor Albus Dumbledore and Professor Severus Snape,” Harry finished off, pointing to each of the portraits respectively. Logan muttered a stiffly polite greeting to each; obviously out of his comfort zone. Finally, it seemed that Hermione could be contained no longer.

 

                “So, how did you guys meet?” she asked, most likely assuming that since it included _Harry_ , it must’ve been something spectacular.

 

                “Well,” Logan smirked at Harry, “he fell into one my classes. Literally.” Everyone bar Harry and Snape raised an intrigued brow. Harry ran his hand over his face, sighing.

 

                “I was _leaning_ against a door that _happened_ to open behind me,” Harry said indignantly. Ron and Hermione shared a knowing look at one another, crooked smiles on their faces. Snape was, as usual, silent throughout the exchange. Although, probably only Albus or Lily would’ve caught the calculating gaze behind that stoic mask. “Anyway!” Harry said, eager to change the subject. “Did you need something?” he turned to Logan, who had a smirk still in place, knowing that Harry was trying to save himself from embarrassment.

 

                “Nah, Chuck sent me here. Said to tell you that he’d like to have a talk with you sometime,” Logan shrugged.  “No rush though. You know he’ll give you your space,” Logan nodded, feeling awkward trying to convey sympathy towards Harry’s past being dragged up earlier. Harry smiled softly, putting Logan to ease. He brushed off his pants and pushed off the ground.

 

                “It’s alright; we can go now,” he said, holding out a hand to Logan. “Better get it over with now, yeah?” Logan eyed his outstretched hand with a raised brow but begrudgingly took it anyway. He was pleasantly surprised to be hefted up by Harry without overly exerting much effort. Logan turned to nod at the portraits once more just as Harry excused them and told them that he’d be back and not to ‘cause any trouble’; which confused Logan – how exactly were portraits supposed to get into trouble anyway?

 

                “Not so fast, Potter,” Snape’s drawl caught Harry’s attention, instinctively flinching a little at the reprimanding tone – reminding him of all those times Snape would make him stay back after classes. He turned a little warily to face the portrait; a wariness that was quite to the amusement of Logan.

 

                “Yes, Professor?” he said a little slowly, carefully.

 

                “Take my portrait with you,” Snape said, raising Harry’s brow in confusion. Snape rolled his eyes and continued, “at least I’ll be there to make sure you don’t break down like an ungraceful fool.” Logan had an incredulous look at the obvious dissing being dished out and he turned to Harry; about to rant off how disrespectful the portrait was being, but stopped short. Harry was looking down at the portrait with soft eyes and a light smile on his lips.

 

                “Okay,” was all Harry said as he bent down to pick up the portrait, muttering a _reducio_ to make it a little smaller and easier to carry around. Before Harry had learned of Snape’s true involvement in his life, he had always been bitter towards the elder for the mistreatment towards him that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Even when he had tried to reconcile with Snape through the Stone and his portraits at times, the other would often be cold. However as he matured and was able to look at things in perspective, he realized that _that_ was Snape’s way of being affectionate with him. Well, maybe he _did_ get a little help from Draco who was the man’s godson and was very well versed in translating the sneers and jabs of their former Potions teacher.

 

Now, after so many years to get used to it, he was more or less attuned to instantly converting Snape’s insults into their true meanings. This time, the elder was expressing his wariness of leaving Harry to face the upcoming conversation alone and intended to be there for support – even if it meant barking at those who may hurt Harry from his place in a _portrait_.

 

Harry was also touched because this was probably one of the extremely few times that Snape had actively sought to be involved. He had a bubbly and light feeling swelling inside him – which didn’t go unnoticed by any of the other portraits if their knowing glances were any indication – and a much better mood as he ushered Logan along. Logan, obviously the only one there who had absolutely _no_ idea what the hell was going on, frowned at Harry. Harry merely flicked his green gaze up at his once, smile still in place, and continued on his way.

 

Their walk back to Xavier’s office was uneventful and silent, but a companionable sort-of silence. None of them felt the need to speak. When they arrived, Logan knocked on the door in quick succession and the Professor called them in almost immediately after. Logan opened the door and jerked his head to motion for Harry to go on in. Harry’s brows lifted slightly and he smiled, dipping his head in thanks, making his way inside the room once more.

 

                “Ah Harry,” the Professor said, rolling himself out from behind his desk. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

 

                “Well, I decided that it’s best to get this out of the way sooner than later,” Harry shrugged, a corner of his lips turned up. Xavier dipped his head in understanding and held out a hand for the two to make themselves comfortable. He raised a brow at the rather large portrait that Harry held in his hands. He couldn’t see the picture itself though, since its back was facing him. Once they were seated, Harry spoke up before the Professor could.

 

“Um, sorry Professor,” he apologized first, much to Xavier’s confusion. “My uh… guardian wanted to hear this,” Harry barely heard Snape’s concealed scoff at the ridiculous title. Xavier eyed the back of the portrait speculatively, wondering why he’d brought a moving picture and how exactly was it meant to be linked to this… ‘guardian’ of his. Deciding to let the portrait do the talking, Harry set it down, propped up by his chair slightly so that they would all have a decent view of it. Xavier wasn’t really surprised to see the moving picture, as he had already seen Harry’s picture days before, but he was definitely in for a surprise when it spoke.

 

                “Good evening,” Snape’s drawl seemed to calm Harry’s jumpy nerves as he kept his eyes on Snape’s confident form. Harry inwardly chuckled a bit – _too bad he never inherited the confidence that was present in all witches and wizards that came from Old families_. “I am Severus Snape,” Snape continued, “Mr Potter’s previous Professor.” Harry pursed his lips to prevent from laughing at the title in which Snape had chosen to introduce himself as.

 

                “And a friend of the family,” Harry piped in. Xavier nodded and introduced both himself and Logan respectively.

 

                “Ah, so you taught Harry in his school?” asked Xavier. Snape nodded and responded in an affirmative. “Well, your portrait certainly looks like it was done when you were in your prime, if I may say so myself.” Harry coughed.

 

                “Um…” Harry’s eyes glanced at Snape who kept silent. “The portraits are merely a shadow of the person. They know no more nor less than what they did at the time it was painted.” Xavier nodded, his face showing pleasant interest as he took in the new information. Harry continued; “Snape was the Headmaster, during the… battle.” Both Xavier and Logan didn’t miss the past tense used.

 

                “Oh,” Xavier noted solemnly; “I wasn’t aware. I’m sure you died an honourable death.” Snape snorted derisively.

 

                “Ah yes, I was killed by the Dark Lord because even though ‘I was a good and faithful servant’, I was in the way of his immortality,” Snape spat scathingly. Anger bubbled up within Harry. On the sidelines, Xavier was shocked to hear that this man had been on the side that was _opposing_ Harry’s. Logan’s eyes were narrowed, wary and yet confused as to why Harry would have a portrait of an enemy – a family friend even.

 

                “Stop it!” Harry burst out, seething. Snape was startled to hear the husky tone bordering on his words; it was known among his friends that Harry’s words would start to sound progressively more like the Parseltongue that he had gotten from Voldemort whenever he was seriously angered. Since Parseltongue was a gift to be born with and not learnt, once an individual has the ability to speak it, they will never lose it.

 

“Why do you –” Harry shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the inky strands in exasperation. “How can you say that?” he finally said, soft as a whisper. Snape eyed Harry, but his expression soon bled out into a soft affection at the boy defending him.

 

                “Harry,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t need anyone to understand his actions aside from Lily and Harry himself. He didn’t care what anyone may think of him. And whilst the sentiment may be fine, Snape felt no need for Harry to defend him. He was content in the knowledge that at least Harry knew. That was all he cared about.

 

                “No!” Harry’s outburst surprised everyone. All eyes were on Harry’s form, his shoulders trembling ever-so-slightly. “You are… the _bravest_ man I _ever_ knew,” Harry said slowly, measuring his words, but kept his eyes on the balled fists in his lap. “I can’t even… _imagine_ , the things you went through. And you,” he turned his gaze on Snape, brows drawn and eyes pleading; “you had to endure hate from _both_ sides.”

 

Snape’s hard mask was melting away as he looked into those enthralling green orbs, wishing for all the world that he could – for once – reach out and touch Harry. The boy he had watched over for so long; but always from afar. He craved to cradle the young man in his embrace, and take away all those years, place the burden on him instead. He would do anything, for him.

 

“And you don’t even _care_ that… _nobody_ knows just how much you’ve _done,_ ” Harry’s voice cracked faintly. “Even though you… showed me; I just—I don’t feel like that’s done enough justice to your life!” Snape blinked slowly, a faint smile caressing his lips in an unfamiliar feeling.

 

                “Harry,” Snape repeated softly, as if tenderly approaching a child on the verge of a massive tantrum. “It’s enough for _me_. You should understand that although it my actions may have been borne out of my love for your mother, I have cared for you since I first saw you; in the Great Hall, in your first year. I didn’t care for you only at the end, Harry.” Snape’s comment was more than just a statement. It was the spark to a flame.

 

Harry’s mind supplied him the trail to set the fire ablaze; thinking back to the memories that Snape had given to him during the Battle. He recalled Dumbledore’s words; _don’t tell me now, that you’ve grown to care for the boy_. And the doe, the same one that had gave him hope during his journey for the Horcruxes. The same one that had led him to the Sword of Gryffindor, and Ron to him. Dumbledore’s incredulous voice again; _after all this time_? His mind jerked as the two ends connected and the connection sparked – Snape hadn’t only just looked out for him during that final year, he had _always_ been watching over him.

 

                “All of _those_ actions, were for you,” Snape’s voice calmly brought him back. “So you being the only one who knows the truth – that is enough.” The warmth in his eyes seemed to penetrate Harry, warming his own heart and calming him down. Harry blinked, still upset and not satisfied, but touched nonetheless. “Now,” Snape continued, cool mask slipped back into place once more as he turned to eye the Professor with a sharp gaze. “I do believe that you were just about to have a _talk_?” he said a little smugly.

 

Harry sniffed once, shaking his head and nodded; remembering just why he was there in the first place. “I’m guessing you want to clear up some things that you heard earlier?” Harry deduced. Xavier nodded silently, a sombre expression on his features.

 

                “Harry,” he said in a fatherly tone, “there is no rush. If you would rather keep it to yourself I would not object.” He already gathered from the earlier meeting that Harry’s life must have been a hard and trying one. After seeing the exchange between Harry and the figure portrayed inside the portrait, he felt even more like he was intruding. Although; he knew that individuals such as Harry would benefit so much just by unloading their burden. He didn’t want the man to have to keep it all to himself, but he didn’t intend to push him either. He was surprised to see Harry shake his head, although he also felt the relief flood into him that the boy understood the importance of sharing.

 

                “No,” Harry cleared his throat, “that’s okay. I think I’ve got the gist of what you want to ask so… I think it’s better if I just tell you what I can for now, and you can ask me anything that I’ve missed out?” Harry proposed. Xavier was pleased with the offer and agreed. He watched in amusement as Harry turned to Logan, who was leaning against a nearby wall, and asked him to take a seat; saying that ‘this was going to take a while’. Logan snorted but smiled crookedly, obliging and taking a seat. Harry drew in a deep breath, letting it out a little shakily, glancing once more at Snape. Snape caught the gaze and nodded supportively, conveying that he would be right there should a need arise. Comforted, Harry turned determinedly and began to speak.

 

It wasn’t a life-story. It was more like a blurb; a brief summary. He touched over his birth and the murder of his parents. Living with the Dursleys. He became more descriptive when his Hogwarts letters arrived – along with the introduction to Hagrid; much to the amusement of Xavier and a bark of approving laughter from Logan. He talked about meeting Ron and Hermione, revealed his time under the sorting hat and explained the house system.

 

He skimmed over his Hogwarts years in a modest fashion – dismissing the Philosopher’s stone, his first Quidditch game his first Christmas present; the Chamber of Secrets, that useless idiot Lockhart, Riddle’s-diary form, quietly skipping over his Parselmouth ability. His quiet sigh when describing Professor Lupin – the best Professor he’d met; dementors and learning the Patronus charm, witnessing Professor Lupin’s change, saving Buckbeak. His gaze was clouded and yearning when he spoke of meeting his Godfather – Sirius’ offer to live with him once it was ‘all over’. A wry smile at remembering his brothers and sisters from the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. His tone detached when he described the magical events of the Triwizard Tournament, and Cedric’s death.

 

Xavier and Logan could both catch that that moment was most likely the moment that Harry truly came to terms to the burden placed on him. It was the first death he had witnessed, of the many that would harden his eyes one by one to become what they were now. Xavier lamented on the sad fact that Harry had merely been 14 at the time – much too young.

 

Harry bitterly recalled Umbridge’s reign during his fifth year and establishing the DA – absentmindedly rubbing the back on his right hand as he did. Two sets of eyes didn’t miss the movement at trailed after the movements but failed to see the faint etchings on Harry’s hand. Laughing at Fred and George’s dramatic entrance to the OWLs. A short moment of silence after Sirius’ death. A rueful smile appeared when Harry rode into his sixth year, surreptitiously stealing glances at an eye-rolling Snape. Speaking about Slughorn and the truth about Voldemort’s indestructibility – much to the horror and shock of his audience. Another silence at Dumbledore’s death, one that stabbed guilt into Snape’s features.

 

Amusement at the seven Potters, downplayed by Hedwig’s and Moody’s deaths. Dumbledore’s gifts to them. Their journey and finding the Horcruxes; breaking into the Ministry of magic with a wry smile. Half-lidded eyes speaking of his unfair treatment towards Ron – causing him to leave. Hearing the Tale of the Three Brothers for the first time in Xenophilius’ home. The snatches; Dobby’s fake-death. Harry’s eyes cast themselves downwards with the mention of each death, feeling them all over again and yet feeling lighter at the same time.

 

He breathed in deeply and pursed his lips, eyes coming back up with a strong gaze as he neared the end. Breaking into Gringotts; returning to Hogwarts. Acquiring the Ravenclaw diadem; Snape’s death – Harry looked over at Snape’s portrait with a sad look, but Snape merely nodded in understanding. Skimming over the more private features and uncovering his identity as the last, _accidental_ horcrux. Harry felt somewhat detached as he saw Xavier and Logan’s wide eyes whilst he talked about confronting Voldemort, and taking the Killing Curse. Returning and finally; opposing Voldemort – Tom Riddle – for the final time.

 

Finally finished with what he considered the hard part, Harry rubbed his eyes and smiled softly. Then, using the Professor’s questions in his first night here as a guide, he went on to list off all the names that the wizarding press would print about him; ‘the Boy-Who-Lived’; ‘the Chosen One’; ‘Triwizard Champion’; ‘Undesirable Number One’. He good-naturedly rolled his eyes and chuckled softly – shaking his head and noting the fickleness of society. Using him as something to look up to, then something to blame when they didn’t want to face the facts and reality.

 

Harry talked about his journey back to Hogwarts when he was 23, picking up the Resurrection Stone and unknowingly becoming the Master of Death. He nodded when Xavier questioned it as the cause of his immortality. They didn’t push and he didn’t delve all too much into it – admitting that he himself is unsure whether or not he can or cannot die. Laughing and flushing slightly at the mentions of Harry being the youngest Head Auror ever. He had indulged Logan’s questioning about the career; and Logan had to admit that he was rather impressed and saw Harry in a respective light – like one soldier to another.

 

They confirmed that the photo Xavier had had a glimpse at were of Harry’s initial friends from school – from the DA. He spoke fleetingly of his time with them. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he spoke about Ron and Hermione – how she’d lectured and mothered him and how they’d all helped him with his becoming the Master of Death. He confirmed to an impressed Xavier that a witch or wizard’s lifespan usually played out to roughly 130 years on average and once again nodded that he had just come after his final friend’s funeral.

 

The conversation bled out slowly into more light-hearted chit-chat. A closer bond formed between Harry and the other two. Harry felt much better now that there were people who _knew_ and he could act more normally around; not having to tip-toe cautiously in conversations. Time passed quickly and soon Harry found himself yawning. Xavier smiled and told him the he should return to his room and rest up for the night. Harry agreed and Logan offered to walk with him as they were going in the same direction. Logan and him spoke in soft tones as they walked; Logan asked simple, non-intrusive questions that Harry felt no problem in answering. As they arrived at Harry’s room, Harry bid Logan goodnight and Logan inclined his head; oddly feeling like he had travelled back in time to when he had had been drilled in the conventions of being a gentleman. Logan scoffed and shook his head as he turned and headed to his own room.

 

In Harry’s own, Harry greeted the portraits with a lethargic smile. He lazily levitated the portraits to line up along the wall across from his bed, and cast a sticking charm on them so as to hold them into place. He automatically felt his body go through the motions of brushing his teeth and changing whilst his mind wandered. Back at his bed, he pulled the covers apart and slid in languidly, a soft and contented sigh slipping from his lips to the amusement of his portraits. The rest excused themselves to wander off whereas Lily sat in her chair with James, humming a soft lullaby as Harry slipped into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere way off in an unknown location, Agent Phillip Coulson was reporting in to base. Bypassing his usually friendly chats with the other Agents, he strode through the building with a purpose and a fire in his eyes. Reaching his destination, he stalked up to a tall dark-skinned man in black attire. The man, hearing footsteps approaching him, turned to see his trusty employee and nodded approvingly.

 

                “Agent Co—”

 

                “Don’t ‘ _Agent Coulson_ ’me, _Director_ ,” Coulson spat, much to the surprise of Fury and a few of the others within hearing range. “You owe me an explanation.”

 

Fury very nearly gulped at the uncompromising tone used by Coulson. Mentally slapping himself for losing his composure, Fury cast a firm gaze onto Coulson and silently signalled for them to take this elsewhere; a place more suitably private.

 

Once inside, he was levelled with a glare from Coulson. Sighing, he took a seat and indicated for Coulson to do the same; which he did. Preparing himself, Fury launched into a long explanation to Coulson’s silent question.


	10. Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Harry had absolutely no idea how he had ended up in this situation. Right now, he was standing in front of a class of teenagers who were all looking at him with pleasantly surprised, interested and expectant expressions all rolled into one. He opened his mouth but nothing came out and, with his jaw still hanging, he turned to shoot a glare at Logan who was perched in a too-relaxed-considering-Harry’s-plight manner next to him. Logan merely raised a brow and gave him a challenging stare back. Sighing, Harry returned his attention back to the amused group.

 

                “Uh…” he said, “okay. Well—how was Logan been instructing you on your lessons so far?” He had dropped the ‘Professor’ title since the night in Xavier’s office a few days ago. Also, it didn’t fit the man at all anyway. The class murmured slightly and it was Pyro that spoke up.

 

                “He didn’t. Just told us to work in pairs most of the time,” he shrugged as if it didn’t really matter anyway. “Oh, he did say ‘hit, don’t get hit’.” Harry spun around to shoot an incredulous look at Logan who smirked – the nerve – and said nothing. Sighing, Harry ran a hand over his face.

 

                “Alright look, I guess for now pairing up would be a good idea. Although don’t just go for who you’re friends with. It’s okay to swap around. You need to get someone who’ll challenge you, not play around with you. For example; Pyro, an obvious sparring partner for you would be Bobby.” His lips twitched at the groan and complaint from both boys. He bit his lip as he took in the students around him, his mind whirling with different things he had to consider. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he raised his hand and motioned for them all to take a seat on the ground. Brows were raised and the students turned to one another with confused expressions but complied nonetheless. Harry also turned his head and jerked it, silently ordering for Logan to take a seat as well. Logan eyed him contemplatively but didn’t argue.

 

“Okay I’ll admit that I’ve done something of this sort before,” Harry began, “but not with… a variety of people like you guys,” he said a little lamely. “I think it’s best that if we were planning to this on a long-term basis; that I would meet with each one of you one-on-one so that I can get a basic view of each of your abilities, strengths and weaknesses. He rolled his eyes as he saw the look of surprise on the student’s faces at the depth Harry was going into for their lesson. Obviously Logan wasn’t very thorough in his job. Not that he’d expected anything different from the man anyway.

 

“Another thing I like to practice is duelling. I’m sure you’re familiar with them, but the type I prefer isn’t the whole pairing-up sort of nonsense you think. Once I have a good enough grasp on each of you, I will get around to sorting one-on-one duels – possibly three duels per class – where the rest of you will watch to see what you can gather for it. Personal experience is fine and all, but there are plenty of things you can learn just by watching too.” The students were already beginning to get excited about the things Harry had already had planned out in his head. He hadn’t done anything as thorough as this for a long time, to be honest. Probably longer than he’d like to admit.

 

“Maybe if we can get you polished up enough, I may set up some moving targets for more intense practices but…” he trailed off and turned to Logan. Whispering; “Logan, just how much do these kids need this sort of class?” he asked. Logan studied him for a moment.

 

                “I can’t say for sure, bub. All we know for sure is that they’ll need it if we’re not around to watch over them from the humans and other anti-mutant factions, or even some mutants who don’t agree with our views. I don’t see them going into a war zone or anything but…” he shrugged, “I think it best to prepare them best as we can, you know? Not do a half-assed job.” Harry smirked at the irony of Logan’s words but said nothing and merely nodded.

 

                “Alright, well;” he turned his attention back to the group. “I would like you to seriously consider my next words, guys. I know that as a teenager, you may be usually written off casually by adults who would rather protect you than have you on the front-lines or fight for yourselves; but it is a fact that life isn’t fair and things usually don’t go as planned.” The room was completely silent, not even the earlier gentle murmurings between students earlier were present as they all felt the gravity of Harry’s words. “You are aware that whilst you may be alright in the safety of the Mansion here, there are many people outside of the Mansion who would wish you harm.

 

“I won’t tell you that these lessons will be a sure-fire way to survive. The truth is that out there; be it on your first battle or your hundredth, most of your survival could depend on luck, and instincts. In the heat of the moment, you definitely won’t be thinking up numerous strategies and you probably won’t know what you’re doing half the time either. Facing these things in real life, is not like school. Here, if you make a mistake, you can just try again next time. But out there, when you’re a _second_ away from being killed, or watching a friend die right before your eyes – you don’t know what that’s like.

 

“If your teachers could have their way, they’d probably want to keep it that way. But that isn’t an excuse to be naïve in the ways of the world and neglect to learn what could just save your life – no matter what it is. I know that some of you guys here may think that big explosions and flashy attacks may be all there is to it; but in reality, just about anything you learn here in school could be used in a fight – if you know how to twist it to your advantages.

 

“Anyhow, I don’t mean for you to feel like you should be burdened by overthinking everything; just that you should be prepared. The worst thing to happen to you right now would be to be caught unawares,” Harry pursed his lips and cast a silent _tempus_ , finding the lesson almost over. “Well, it looks like your lesson is almost over already. I’m sorry if you were expecting to have some fun this lesson, but we’ll be sure to get into it tomorrow,” he smiled. Pushing himself off the ground and dusting his hands on his pants he said; “for now, I would like to leave you guys with some food for thought.

 

“I once said this to a few of my friends long ago when we had put together our own little Defence club: ‘Working hard is important; but there’s something else that’s even more important: believing in yourself. Look at it this way: every great individual in history has started out as nothing more than what you are now – students. And if they can do it; why not us?” Just as he ended, the bell rang. The students immediately leapt up and the chattering began, but Harry was pleased when more than a few students came up to him to thank him even though he’d hardly done anything.

 

It was Logan’s last lesson for the day so they’d decided to just walk around the mansion together since they’d both had nothing else to do. They left the danger room and were strolling in the corridors, Harry fluidly avoiding the students rushing to their next lesson.

 

                “So,” Harry spoke up as they walked side-by-side, heading out into the Mansion’s wide open backyard. Logan grunted to show he was listening before Harry continued. “Why…” Harry was unsure as to how to word what he wanted to say without being indelicate. “Uh, I mean – How exactly are you…” Logan smirked at nothing in particular as he was listening to Harry’s struggles.

 

                “How am I so old?” he clarified, much to Harry’s relief. Harry sighed and nodded shyly. Logan chuckled; “I’m not sure myself; but Chuck said that it could be because of my mutation.” Harry turned to look at him inquisitively, silently asking for more of an explanation. “Well, I can heal; among other things,” he said lowly, shooting Harry a mischievous grin that told him he wouldn’t be clarifying. “Chuck said that my body may have had to heal itself so often that the cells slowed down its aging process,” he shrugged. “Neither of us is sure whether it’s just slowed down or stopped completely.” Harry hummed in quiet contemplation. “Now it’s your turn,” Logan smirked once more. Harry rolled his eyes but chuckled when Logan nudged him jokingly.

 

                “Well you already get the gist of it,” Harry said simply, eyeing the clear blue sky above them. “I didn’t know it before; but after I thought about it with Hermione we figured out that I’d never truly possessed all three Hallows at the same time until that time I picked up the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest again when I was twenty-three.” Harry let out a breath that sounded like a sigh, his eyes dropping down onto the green grass, gaze wistful.

 

                “Do you regret it?” asked Logan. Harry started, a little startled at the serious question. His eyes flickered around as he thought of his answer.

 

                “I dunno,” he admitted truthfully. He cocked his head to the side a little to look at Logan. “Sometimes I do… The first few years after I’d realized it were the hardest I think,” he smiled a nostalgic sort of sad smile. “Although my friends were all very helpful; Hermione especially. Kicked my arse right out of the gutter, she did,” Harry chuckled. “After that I guess I…” a shrug, “just decided to stop worrying about it and just live again, you know? Make the most out of it.” Harry eyeballed Logan’s answering shrug. “What about you?”

 

                “Before this I… I had a brother, and we were the same,” Logan began. “I think we stayed together for most of it so I guess I was alright in terms of company an’ all. We must’ve separated not too long ago because of disagreements,” his shoulders rose and dropped again in nonchalance. “Last I saw him; he was with Magneto’s gang,” Logan didn’t seem to really care much about that detail. Harry frowned, though. He hadn’t really been told much about ‘Magneto’s Brotherhood’, but from what he’d gathered so far it wasn’t a very good picture.

 

“Don’t really make much of a difference to me though,” Logan continued, “something happened about 17 or so years ago and I lost all my memories of anything before then.” Harry turned to look at him curiously.

 

                “Really? What happened?” he asked. Logan shrugged.

 

                “I dunno,” he replied, “all I knew was that I woke up with that idiot LeBeau standing over me and he brought me out of some island. Said I’d gone there to look for someone and he gave me a lift.” His body language appeared like it didn’t make much of a difference to Logan, although Harry knew that he’d feel at least a little annoyed at not remembering anything at all. Harry’s brows were furrowed. How did Logan lose so much of his memory like that?

 

                “Do you know what happened?” Harry asked carefully. Logan eyed him for a moment before replying.

 

                “There was a bullet, on the ground in front of me when I woke up. Chuck said that I must’ve been shot right in the brains and even though my body pushed the bullet back out; it must’ve messed something up in my head. There was also…” Logan hesitated slightly, “there was a woman. Not far off from where I woke up. She was dead. She looked familiar though, and I don’t think she was the one who shot me.” Logan remained indifferent as he spoke.

 

Harry nodded slowly, taking in the information. Harry felt like he should say something that was nagging at his mind, but he didn’t feel like it was the right thing to do at the moment. So; he stayed in the companionable silence until Logan spoke up again.

 

                “So, that ‘irony’ you said about getting that Defence job,” he began, “was it ‘cause when you were there at tha’ school of yours, you had a different professor for that subject every year?” Harry laughed openly and nodded affirmatively.

 

                “Yes exactly. I first got offered the post from Professor McGonagall after the war; probably as a sort of joke, but I told her I didn’t mind coming in every now and then. I did end up visiting Hogwarts pretty often after that anyway,” Harry said. Logan snorted; he could imagine that happening quite easily.

 

After that, the two easily slipped back into simple conversations again and spoke of anything and everything. Not going too deep as each seemed to know the limit of just how far they could go with the other and when to not pry. They stayed that way until the sun began to set and it was time for dinner. They continued talking as they walked together back to the Mansion for dinner. Harry was waved over by his usual table, but for some unknown reason, he hesitated; his body turned towards the group but his feet not moving. He jerked a little in surprise when he felt Logan’s fingers curl around his wrist in a firm but not restraining grip. Turning his head sharply, he met Logan’s eyes.

 

                “Why don’t you come sit with us grown-ups tonight?” he smirked in that way that Harry had started to become fond of. Harry faltered, unsure. He peeked over at the group of teens – some of whom were still looking at him expectantly. Something that his eyes caught was the contemplative way Rogue was eyeing him. Then, she smiled and nudged her head to the side ever-so-slightly, motioning for him to go ahead. Somehow, he felt better knowing that Rogue didn’t mind and smiled appreciatively.

 

                “Alright,” he said as he turned back to face Logan. The other corner of Logan’s lips tipped upwards to form a friendlier smile. Neither mentioned the fact that Logan didn’t release Harry’s wrist, instead using it to lead Harry to the teachers’ table. All of the other Professors and adults at the table looked up at their arrival and some had pleasant expressions of surprise on their face. They all greeted Harry enthusiastically and Harry was sat down between Logan and the Professor, and across from Ororo, Hank and Remy.

 

Ororo, friendly as ever, asked Harry about his time in the Mansion so far. He’d given a few funny anecdotes about his time there; including the one where Remy had mistaken him as a student and tried to show him up. Most of the adults had then given Remy a stern look which he deflected with hands raised in surrender and pacifying words. This was followed up by an abrupt comment from Jean that listening to both Harry and Remy’s accents at the same time could probably subdue the Earth’s entire female population – to which the women laughed to and the men chuckled a little awkwardly.

 

They ate and talked, Logan silently stocking up Harry’s plate with more and more meat. Harry stopped pretending not to have noticed it after the third piece of chicken and raised a brow at Logan. Logan merely leered and said that he needed to eat more; adding in an absolutely unnecessary comment about his size while he was at it.

 

Hank and Harry exchanged easy chatter. Harry had found it astonishingly easy for him to have one of those ‘silent-conversations’ with Hank that he’d heard of but only ever successfully experienced with very few people. There was one silent moment where they were merely watching each other quietly, and Hank’s eyes had flickered once to Harry’s sides, and Harry’s own green gaze had lit up. Then, Hank had smiled understandingly.

 

Remy and he had conversed idly, Remy’s mischievous intents attempting to rope Harry into one of his ‘master plans’ – one of which somehow involved Scott’s bike, rope and some chicken feathers. Ororo seemed to have caught on sometime in the middle of the laying-down of said plan and started bickering playfully with the man. He had appeased her with smooth words which had Harry thinking that Remy could be quite the smooth-talker if he wanted to. Or a politician. But that thought just made Harry laugh.

 

Sometime during their dinner, a loud screech was heard – a sound that Harry instantly recognised as the sound made by an owl.  His head had immediately jerked up on habit, as did many others who curiously looked around for the source of the noise. A pure white snowy owl that reminded Harry of Hedwig had somehow made its way into the room. It swooped gracefully around the room, eyes searching. Spotting Harry, it flew over and clipped its beak over the package in its mouth; causing the box to fall. Harry caught the bundle deftly, his eyes wide in surprise. The room had quietened and many of the students were quite intrigued as they watched the owl beat its wings once more before landing skilfully on the back of Harry’s chair.

 

Absentmindedly, Harry raised his left fingers up to the bird which nipped the appendages fondly and he stroked its feathers a few times. His attention was on the extravagant letter tied to it. His body was on autopilot as it untied the strings and slid the envelope out, turning it over. His brows shot up as he recognised the gaudy seal on its back – not that he’d already noticed the familiar colour combinations – and also felt the familiar magic thrumming lightly across the light pistachio green envelope and along the black silk ribbon tied once over it. His mouth popped open as his brain finally began to work again after overcoming the slight shock and he recognised what _sort_ of letter this was.

 

Fortunately for him, most of the students had already gotten over the admittedly odd experience and had gone back to their busy gossiping. Unfortunately, his table was not as forgiving and he was too slow to do anything before the touch-triggered magic on the envelope activated. It was a common speaker letter – much like a howler, but for normal purposes instead. It wasn’t as widely used since there was no point putting magic into a letter just to read itself when there wasn’t any stressing point. Howlers were much more practiced because the castor intended for its reader to feel their rage as they heard the letter.

 

Harry watched a little helplessly as the letter shuddered once and flew straight out of his fingers. Those at his table in his vicinity had stopped their talking to look astonishingly at the floating letter. Then, the papers rearranged themselves to resemble a mouth. What really stopped the few around him was when it began talking in a strong, confident, _female_ voice. It said:

 

* * *

 

_Harry Potter,_

_You better have a really good explanation for not writing to me since leaving. And if I find out that you’ve been writing to everyone_ except _me, you can say goodbye to your sorry arse oh ‘Chosen One’. Well, whatever. I already know exactly how you can make it up to me._

_Anyway, Kathy and Leo have been pestering me about you. Leo’s getting married soon, you know? To Elizabeth. You can probably start to expect the wedding invitations soon. Leo’s thinking of having it at the Manor – since it’s going to be his and all soon anyway; but seems like Lizzy wants it at our Chateau in Paris._

_Nevertheless, you can expect that it will be nowhere_ near _as extravagant as Kathy’s will be when that boy of hers finally mans up and proposes. And you know what Kathy said to me just the other day? She said she was thinking of making you godfather of her first child! Ha! Imagine that._

_Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve decided to take matters into my_ own _hand. Kathy and I have booked a flight out to New York a week’s time from now. And don’t you even dare try to convince me otherwise. Now, you can either come out to meet us at New York, or you can send your location back with the owl. I’ll be expecting some form of a reply from you, Harry, or God-so-help-you I will track you down myself._

_Not like that matters though; because from the looks of things in the family, it looks like you’re going to be stuck with us, Potter._

_I expect to hear from you soon._

_Emiliana Rowena Malfoy._

* * *

 

The letter then reshuffled itself once more to fold itself elegantly into a small paper dragon, with the silver borders lining the paper coating its wings; creating a lustre effect under the lights and the black silk weaved between the folds to colour the spines and ended by wrapping itself around the dragon’s tail.

 

Harry sat there, stunned by what he’d just heard and merely stared dumbly at the paper dragon that seemed to have _also_ been charmed lightly as it flapped its wings lightly and waved its tail – but remained on the spot. Those nearest to him were also silent after overhearing the ‘talking letter’ and eyes were darting between Harry and the moving paper dragon.

 

Logan’s cautious hand on his shoulder snapped Harry out of his reverie and he jerked in his seat at the touch. He turned to stare blankly at Logan as he heard an amused Professor’s voice.

 

                “Oh, you have visitors coming over?” Xavier said calmly. Harry then turned his attention to the Professor to stare open-mouthed at him for a second before fully regaining his senses. Then, he groaned and ran a hand down his face wearily.

 

                “Oh Merlin.”


	11. Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

Logan recalled the events after hearing the ‘magical’ letter addressed to Harry in a sort of blur. Harry had got his act together after heaving a great sigh and muttering something about ‘Merlin’. In those few seconds he seemed to have come to a decision and immediately began to push aside some of the plates in his vicinity.  Then he’d reached into that pouch of his – which Logan still gives furtive glances at every time he sees something new come out of it, wondering just how many things can fit in there – and pulled out some worn paper that looked suspiciously like olden-day parchment and a fancy fountain pen.

 

He’d set aside the pen for a moment as his fingers danced across the paper, mumbling words under his breath. Logan and Xavier were suitably impressed when glossy gold borders appeared; along with a red, gold and black coat-of-arms at the top of the parchment. Then, Harry picked up the pen, giving it a few testy flicks of his wrist, and began scribbling in a hasty reply. Logan’s lips quirked up when he noticed Harry’s messy writing. From all the talk he’d heard the last couple of days; he’d gathered that Harry was some sort of noble in England and in his community. It amused him to see that not only did Harry not act all arrogant and haughty as he’d expect from those of his station, but he lacked the ‘elegant script’ that usually seemed to come naturally with the people themselves. He heard Harry ask the Professor for directions to the Mansion, which he dutifully wrote down too. He added little pleasantries here and there, and then signed off with his name. Just as the pen left the paper, the parchment inked itself once more beneath Harry’s name; adding in – _Head of the Most Noble Houses of Potter and Black_.

 

This time, Harry pulled out a simple white envelope from his pouch and slid the parchment in carefully. He eyed the back flap of the envelope with a contemplative gaze and a purse of his lips, but shook his head and simply ran his fingers over the edge of the flap – silently casting a firm sticking charm and a releasing-charm that would react only to Emi’s magical signature. It was a little paranoid, but the letter was also charmed to burn itself should someone other than Emi attempt to open it. He certainly didn’t want the letter ending up in just anybody’s hands, no matter that it wasn’t all that important. Harry had then turned to stroke the owl still resting quietly on the back of his chair and passed over the letter to it gently, murmuring pleasant praises to the creature. Once the owl had the letter grasped firmly, it ruffled its feathers slightly before taking off once more and went straight out a window.

 

Once the bird was out of sight, Harry excused himself with a stiff, curt nod to the table’s occupants and returned to his room. Harry had let out another long breath after clicking shut the door to his room. This was noticed by all of his room’s ‘inhabitants’; most of whom had proceeded to coerce him over to the bed. Slowly, Harry had dragged himself over and sat himself down, fiddling with his pouch as his mind whirred around Emi’s letter – the paper dragon of which seemed to have perched itself atop his messy head of hair. After a few more encouragements, Harry finally looked up to his portrait-filled wall opposite to where he sat on his bed. There were a total of seven portraits now – three more having made their way up there shortly after Harry had awoken the day after speaking to Logan and Xavier.

 

Spaced evenly but still appearing cluttered, from left to right, were the portraits of Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Sirius Black, his parents and Ron and Hermione. There was a large group-portrait placed on the farthest right; which was one that he’d specifically requested a few years after his becoming ‘Master of Death’. It was a portrait with mostly individuals that were in the DA, but also a few others that had fought in the War, including Draco Malfoy. Some of the individuals had given mock-scandalised expressions at having Malfoy included in the portrait, but Harry had had none of it. Malfoy himself had seemed rather against the idea but Harry had been insistent and practically dragged Malfoy into it.

 

At having gained his attention, the portraits seemed to be rather cunning in the fact that they didn’t ask him about whatever had happened, but instead went about speaking to each other. Some even ventured into other portraits as they chatted idly. Harry watched this expressionlessly but soon he narrowed his eyes, getting a tad annoyed but knowing their ploy nonetheless. His resolve soon dissolved though, and he launched into a lengthy recalling of Emi’s letter; even going as far as to cast a spell on the letter for it to reread itself once more for the benefit of the portraits.

 

To say that they weren’t helpful would be an understatement. Just about all of them had merely rolled their eyes at his theatricality, told him to relax and just prepare for her and Kathy’s arrival. Harry had given many pointed looks at Draco in particular; considering it was his granddaughter that he was speaking about. Malfoy had merely laughed it off and commented that Emi was definitely a Malfoy, no doubt about that.

 

Harry had soon given up on trying to get them to help him and just fell back onto his bed, deciding to sleep on it or something – hoping he’d figure it out later. Once he _did_ wake, he realized that there really wasn’t any point in worrying about something that was already set. Thus, Harry shoved that piece of information back in mind somewhere for it to resurface later on enough that at least he would remember to greet their arrival, and then carried on his business.

 

The days were spent rather carefree – spare times were traded out with friendly sparring sessions with Kurt in the gardens and sometimes in the forest by the Mansion’s land boundaries. Harry enjoyed those sparring times because it made him get back into the rhythm of things – and he realized just how out of practice he was after only maybe a decade or so of staying still – and also Kurt’s abilities added an edge to his already unpredictable moves.

 

Harry had never really trained in-depth with any sort of weapon aside from the most basic of knowledge. He’d found out rather interestingly that Kurt was well versed in handling both short daggers and long swords; and was even privy to a short demonstration of said skills. He thought that it wouldn’t hurt to learn new things – after all, he did have forever – and had asked Kurt to mentor him in the use of a dagger first. He wasn’t sure just how much the skill of handling swords would be to him because he highly doubted he would be carrying swords of any sort on his person.

 

He’d managed to grasp the basic concepts of retrieving, holding, positioning and stowing of the daggers. Kurt had said that it would be more effective if he got himself his own dagger – since he could become used to it rather than the cheap ones they were practicing with. Harry considered making a trip to Gringotts and inquiring about having one made for him but decided he could think about that another time; possibly when he even got around to returning to London again.

 

The day after Harry had decided on not worrying about Emi’s inevitable visit, Hank had told him he would be returning to work just before Emi was set to arrive. Harry had quickly jumped at any opportunities to spend some more time with him before he had to leave. He made good with his promise to look over some potions with Hank. They had cleared a small corner station in Hank’s own makeshift lab underneath the mansion for their little experiments.

 

Harry had set up a blank portrait in their workspace so that Snape could join them if he wanted to. He would regularly consult Snape’s _Advanced Potion Making_ book notes and was always surprised to see Snape and Hank get along quite well. Hank enjoyed inquiring about the mechanics of Potion making which the Potions master seemed to have no qualms about answering.

 

They’d attempted numerous combinations of both wizarding potion-making and mundane scientific methods; some results rather disastrous – thank god for the reinforced walls underground – and some proving quite a breakthrough. When testing the effects, Harry had happily drafted himself up to be the tester. None of them were sure just how the potions could affect individuals; although Hank was vehemently against the idea regardless of Harry’s ‘immunity’. There were a few that actually managed to knock Harry straight out, some that had little effects, and some which were startling discoveries.

 

Considering Hank’s observation that although wizarding potions were already proven to work fine on humans, they could not be sure that the same could be said for mutants. After all, mutants weren’t _fully_ human; bearing in mind their genetic makeup. Hank had also suggested they used Logan if they ever did decide they wanted to try out the effects the potions would have on mutants – considering Logan was just about as hard to kill as Harry was – which brought a small smile and laugh from both men.

 

Aside from that, the majority of Harry’s time was spent more-or-less _teaching_ Logan’s class. He had gotten a list of the classes and respective students under Logan to work with and at night he often wrote out simple lesson plans for each. He tried his best to remember the names of the kids as he worked with them and was amused to find that he remembered them easier by their abilities rather than their names. Although, the majority of the students opted to be called their own makeshift nicknames – which usually had something to do with their abilities anyway – and from there it wasn’t that hard.

 

He’d found it a tad bit irritating that Logan usually just decided to stand on the side-lines and watch Harry do his job for him. Sometimes though, he felt a shiver run up his spine; or felt burn of a watching gaze on his back during these lessons and would turn to see Logan watching him with a challenging and unrepentant air. The students were working well on their paired practices, and he was steadily getting to know each student’s ability better and better each day. He felt that soon he would be able to put together a decent duelling program for them. Harry found that he rather enjoyed running those classes, despite it not even being his job. He loved to see the different gifts that the students possessed and frequently watched them as they happily used their abilities with free reign with a soft smile on his own face.

 

Logan found himself spending most of his time lounging against the hard metal wall of the Danger Room watching Harry run his class. He didn’t have any issue with letting Harry take over his class; especially by the looks of things. His students seemed more eager and enthusiastic about duelling. At first it did seem like the kids were treating it as fun, as usual, but after Harry had given them a stern little talk, they’d become more serious. His eyes trailed after the short black-haired man as he flitted around the room; watching the progress of the kids and often giving pieces of advice here and there.

 

By the way Logan had watched him – which had been for a while now – and taken into consideration Harry’s mannerisms, it was clear that Harry was no stranger to the ethics of combat. The way Harry held himself and how he seemed be able to blend into his surroundings, the volatility of his movements, the silence of his footsteps, the quick glance-over he gave at any new environment he was brought to, and how none of his movements were wasted – not moving more than was necessary. They all played a part in revealing the picture to Logan that Harry’s past in the war was most likely a feature that had defined the Harry that he saw now. Although it was a prize to see that Harry wasn’t like most war-hardened warriors, still maintaining a positive attitude in life.

 

He wasn’t sure why, but Logan felt immensely relieved and relaxed around Harry. It was ironic really; considering the fact that since he knew that Harry probably _could_ manage to hold his own against Logan and that he would probably be one of the greatest and only threat to Logan, that Logan himself would be so unguarded around the other man. He also found that he enjoyed the company Harry provided – surprisingly enough. Because of this, it had already become the norm for students to spot the two together whenever they were not busy.

 

Although _some people_ may like to think that Logan was all brawns and no brains; he wasn’t _that_ stupid. He’d noticed that for some odd reason – this part he hadn’t yet figure out yet – Rogue seemed to be rather intent on bringing up his friendship with Harry, how it was going, what they spoke about, and also if she and the other kids were with Harry and he happened to come by, she’d surreptitiously shove Harry his way. Her main reasoning was that ‘Harry should hang out with people his age more’. Not that she – or any other student for that matter – knew about the fact that Logan _was_ more or less the only person around Harry’s ‘age’. She’d probably meant ‘adults’.

 

Apart from the fact that the students obviously enjoyed Harry’s tutorage as opposed to Logan’s, their favour to Harry was just about sealed when Harry had finally got around to making an altered ‘mutant-version’ of Quidditch for them to play. For the older students, such as Warren and Bobby, he’d told them in-depth what each of the players was meant to do. That way, if any unusual players decided to join in, they themselves could be able to alter the games to fit their participant’s abilities to play the game without needing Harry around to do so.

 

With that, time passed relatively quickly. In a blink of an eye, already a week had passed and Harry had only just remembered about Emi’s arrival enough to be nervous about it. He spent the entire day slightly on edge and feeling foolish whenever he fretted and worried that Emi would disapprove of the Mansion – even though he knew she’d never do that.

 

Charles Xavier was enjoying a normal, quiet day in his office; putting in order a number of things and also listening pleasantly to his students enjoying the sunny afternoon outside. However, this peace was broken with a sharp, curt rap on his door. He frowned, not sensing anything outside his door, but firmly voiced his allowance to entry. The door swung open to reveal two unfamiliar figures that had his expression morphing into amused interest. The woman in front strode into his office with sure steps and a confident aura whilst the other followed suit a little more laxly.

 

                “Professor Charles Xavier, I presume?” came the assertive voice of the first woman as she strode right before him with a professional expression plastered on. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, so he was wondering just who she was.

 

                “Yes, that would be me,” Xavier nodded. “May I enquire your business here?” This brought an upturned-twist to one corner of the woman’s lips.

 

                “My name is Emiliana Rowena Malfoy, and this is my daughter, Katherine Eridanus Malfoy. I’m looking for a Harry James Potter,” said Emilia. Xavier was suitably impressed at the finality and assurance of Emilia’s tone – this was obviously someone who was used to a position of power of some sort. His face also lit up at the mention of her name and Harry’s, finally realizing who she was.

 

                “Ah yes; you are his goddaughter, am I correct? You sent him that rather curious letter about a week ago,” he noted, already beginning to wheel himself out from behind his desk to politely shake the hands of the two. Emilia nodded stoically whilst Katherine looked surprised at Xavier’s knowledge of their connection to Harry.

 

                “That is correct. He sent me the address to your school in his reply and said that you were in charge and that I would be able to find him through you.”

 

                “Yes, of course. He’s just outside with the other students,” Xavier told her as he motioned for the ladies to follow him out. He gave them a brief introduction to the Mansion as they both took it in curiously until they passed through the doors leading into the gardens.

 

                “Harry!” an excited female voice called out. Harry, who was watching an ensuing modified-Quidditch game play out with Logan by his side pitching in funny comments, turned just in time to see a blurred figure before it pounced on him. His eyes widened as he quickly spread his arms to catch the approaching body, spreading his feet and bending them at the knees to lessen the pressure of the impact. He let out a gruff ‘oof!’ as their bodies collided and he suddenly had an armful of a giggling blonde woman. He looked down at the familiar locks spilling over his fingers like a waterfall as recognition hit him.

 

                “Kathy?” he said incredulously. He’d just about forgotten all about expecting their arrival; finally managing to relax when Logan had invited him over to watch the students play. The person in his arms merely squeezed him harder and his own expression slowly morphed into one of fondness as he lifted one hand to soothingly stroke her hair.

 

                “I can see you’re as sappy as usual, Potter,” came a voice that Harry would recognize anywhere. His head snapped and a wide smile spread across his face at the strawberry-blonde approaching him. The woman had a trademark smirk curling her lips as she strode toward him in hip-swaying steps.

 

                “Emi,” Harry said in a soft voice, reaching out one hand toward her slowly. Emi’s tough smirk softened into a friendlier smile as she herself reached out a hand to take Harry’s. Katherine had finally peeked her head out from where she had tucked herself under Harry’s chin to look between her mother and Harry with a smile. She slowly disentangled herself out from Harry and stood by his side, making way.

 

                “Long time no see… _Harry_ ,” Emi reluctantly seemed to add, accepting the warm hug that Harry wrapped her in once she was close enough. Harry’s smile as he hooked his chin behind her back brightened. They lingered in the hug for a moment before pulling away simultaneously. Emi gave him a swift peck on the cheek affectionately as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear in a familiar gesture. Emi rolled her eyes at his sappiness once more and ruffled his own hair playfully – much to the annoyance of Harry who yelped and backed away, running his own hands through the dark locks in an effort to tame the unruly hair.

 

Kathy laughed as she watched. Xavier and Logan both eyed the interaction with intrigued expressions, Logan feeling a little prickly sensation at watching the intimate interaction between Harry and the two beautiful women.

 

                “You’re both looking stunning as usual,” Harry commented idly, eyeing Emi’s trademark hair which he always seemed to get a kick out of every time he saw her. It came to both a surprise and not a surprise to many when Draco’s son, Scorpius, had proposed to Ron and Hermione’s daughter; Rose. It was quite funny since Ron had always raised his children to be better than Malfoy’s out of playful jest but it wasn’t exactly surprising since the two had been close friends from the moment they entered Hogwarts.

 

When Rose was expecting; everyone were making bets on which bloodline would be more prominent in the child. Malfoy’s grey eyes and platinum blonde hair were extremely unique to their own pureblood bloodline, strengthened more or less by its purity – which remained up to Scorpius’ generation. Or, the Weasley’s flaming red hair. Even both of Ron and Hermione’s children had inherited the striking colour. When Scorpius and Rose had first starting dating, Draco had often made joking remarks to his own son about dating a _Weasley_ and often made faces at them together. Despite this, Rose seemed to have wormed her way into the older Malfoy’s good graces since he took to her much better than the rest – even if he would deny it or push it to be due to her being his daughter-in-law.

 

Everybody’s face had practically split in half with grins when out came Emi with light _strawberry blonde_ hair. The baby in question had merely stopped her wailing at the ensuing laughter, turned striking grey eyes at her parents and given her own innocent beaming smile. Harry and the others watched her grow into a tall, elegant woman who exuded Malfoy charisma. Harry had found it amusing that though she seemed much more like her Malfoy name-sake, she was quite an equal mix of both her parents.

 

This was probably due to her father and grandfather raising her outside personality to be the confident and proud woman everyone saw, respected and even feared; whilst at home, her mother would ingrain in her the kinder side of Weasley traits. This part of her was only known to those she considered precious to her; which was very few, to say the least. Emi had the capacity to be one of the kindest and most compassionate person Harry knew. At the same time, put her into a board meeting and she was extremely ruthless and at times Harry had heard others speak of her as ‘an exceptionally beautiful woman who brought ‘looks are deceiving’ to a whole new level’. She was the pure image of everything a Malfoy stood for; beauty, cunning, wit and deception.

 

Emi’s husband was quite a polar opposite which had many people confused. He got along very well with Harry, who approved almost instantly despite his early doubts. They had met when Emi had been invited to one of her partnering companies to visit their facilities, which were located in another city, and hold some important meetings to cement certain decisions regarding their companies. The man had been one of the directors in the company and was also assigned to be her ‘tour-guide’ throughout the duration of the trip.

 

The man was honest, kind and open; yet also strict, firm and determined. He was admired by those under him as he would understand and get along well with them, and yet did not give them any leeway or allow them to slack off either. He had been impressed when first introduced to Emi, whom he had tenderly dubbed Emily later on, and whilst she was as cold as usual at first, he’d been welcoming to her and she soon warmed up to him nicely.

 

Even after returning back home, they’d kept in touch regularly. The man was also a half-blood wizard whose parents had raised him to be an open-minded person and treated everyone the same, regardless of their circumstances. Because of that, he didn’t make assumptions about people who were well-known until he personally met them. Emi herself was a testimony that the pictures the media paints aren’t always reliable. When first introduced to Emi’s parents, he too had his eyes flickering amusedly between her parents’ instantly recognizable hair colours and her own unique combination.

 

He was modest, and usually introduced himself as such, often comparing his own looks to Emi’s as ‘a pretty common and boring brunette’. They made an interesting duo with their clashing personalities; but together, they were absolutely incredible. He remained as a liaison between the two companies after they’d married.

 

Then came Leo and Kath; Leo with his bright blonde hair which came as a surprise – and smug acknowledgement of Draco – to his parents and Kathy with her own sandy, dirty blonde locks and her father’s hazel eyes. Leo, short for Leonidas, was the face of the proud Malfoy bloodline in himself. He was only two years older than Kathy and was already preparing himself to take over the family business; Scorpius dutifully watching over him since young and Emi herself training the boy – rather harshly – on how to handle himself in the public eye. He was aloof and had his mother’s spirit, but showed compassion and rare instances of kindness to those under him that he’d inherited from his father.

 

Leonidas Caleum Malfoy was in his mid-thirties and, if what Harry had heard was correct, had recently proposed to his girlfriend of four years; Elizabeth Marie Rosier. Emi had taken to the refined girl well; approving her as a prime candidate as Leo’s future-wife due to her family’s standing as another influential pureblood line, coupled with the fact that she knew how to hold herself as one from such a social standing; made Elizabeth a good choice and partner for someone like Leonidas. Together, they would be a perfect portrayal of a couple from a distinguished line.

 

Katherine was often regarded as ‘the other side of the coin’ in respect to her brother. She was outwardly sympathetic and attentive, which in a way was a deception in and of itself. Hardly anyone had had the misfortune of crossing Kathy’s darker side. If provoked, she had proved to be able to turn as manipulative and cunning as her Malfoy’s Slytherin blood was known for. Were anything to become a threat to those dear to her, she would show absolutely no mercy in eliminating anything and everything with such precision and lethality that could put her as one of the most dangerous person to cross.

 

Once, Leon had been travelling to the United States for business and his sister had self-proclaimed her involvement so as to make use of the trip to savour the shopping districts in the area. Meanwhile, Leon had secured a partnership with one association and also cut ties with another organization. The organization in question was one that Leon had known to have had dealings with underground factions and whilst he had absolutely no problem with that, it was their increasingly sloppy and unnecessarily drastic measures that had been to his distastes.

 

He was aware that he might suffer a slight backlash from cutting ties with them because most likely his family’s business was the most powerful company they were in contract with, but he wasn’t prepared to find them messing with his trip. They’d put in hospital a large number of _muggle_ businessmen he was in contact with from the other association he was dealing with; destroyed their hotel and lodgings; and the pushing point was when they’d attempted to abduct Kathy for what was most likely a hefty ransom. She, not going to risk exposing herself in front of so many muggles, had just escaped with a few cuts and bruises. Leon had been furious.

 

He couldn’t do anything however; as it would’ve risked his image for him to retaliate to the extent he _wanted_ to. Even so, his eyes had widened when his darling sister had calmly pacified his fits of rage over breakfast the following day and simply smiled tenderly at him saying; “it’s okay Leo, I’ll take care of it”.

 

Three days later and nearly four _hundred_ people were in jail, evidence to countless unsolved crimes abruptly being found everywhere – so much so that there wasn’t even a point in making trials at the amount of evidence laid out in front of the authorities. Handfuls of prominent figures – businessmen, singers, actors, wives, TV hosts, you name it – featured across every newspaper in the world. Black-market dealings, slander, affairs, blackmail, and corruption of all sorts had suddenly appeared. So much so that the papers had a hard time choosing which figure to focus on. Every single one saw the collapse of their credibility and was shunned in the public eye. Their entire careers, their life’s work, had fallen spectacularly; in absolute ruin. Companies linked and owned by their group went bankrupt overnight; assets seized and money frozen.

 

Kathy’s work had been swift, precise and ruthless. Leon had absolutely no doubt that it was her work either. He’d raised a brow and his lips upturned into a small, crooked smile when he had seen her waltz into their suite kitchen each day as usual; innocent eyes flickering up at him in small curiosity as he read the shocking news that splashed the papers for weeks. After the first few days, he’d reached over the counter at where she was lazily stirring some tea, tucked a lock of her long hair behind her ear and gave her a quick peck on the forehead; whispering “thanks Kath.” She’d smiled.

 

Both Harry and Emi had greeted their return with questioningly raised brows, paper tucked under their arms, and Kathy had once again given them an entirely too-innocent look. Harry had shook his head whilst Emi smirked and wound an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and gave a “good work!”. Harry shot Emi a disapproving look at that comment, but he too had known what had happened to the siblings and had simply given her a warm hug and murmured words of praise into her ears as well before nodding to Leon for keeping an eye out on his sister.

 

The children had both retained their mother’s Malfoy name, not even adding on their father’s. A small reason was so that Leon would be recognized as the legitimate heir to the Malfoy name once he was ready to inherit the title as Head of the house. This was also the reason that was released into the public. Even though one would assume that Emi would be perfectly satisfied with this, in reality, she had spent _months_ debating the subject with her husband when they were discussing having children of their own. Her husband was the one who had finally convinced her to go ahead as he didn’t mind either way, as long as his children remembered him as their father – he was content.

 

Well; that had been that and Harry was always occupied with one thing or another when it came to the Malfoys. For now though, he was glad to see the girls again – even if he was dreading the shopping they’d drag him to – and was glad to have a piece of home with him.


	12. IOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

“This one,” Kathy held the item out under Harry’s chin. Harry had on an exasperated expression but obediently kept still – as still as a mannequin. Emi rolled her eyes.

 

                “Don’t be ridiculous, Kath,” she said in a tone that told Kathy her mother had called her out on her choices. “ _This_ one is the obvious choice,” Emi shoved another one under Harry’s chin instead.

 

                “What does it _matter_?” Harry finally complained, throwing up his hands at the women’s antics. “They’re exactly the same!” He cringed, however, when both women turned to him with disapproving glares.

 

                “They are _not_!” Kathy defended indignantly. “They’re completely different colours. Really, Harry,” she shook her head as if utterly disappointed in him. Harry himself merely shot her a pointed look in return.

 

                “What Kathy here is trying to say is that the _red_ one stands out and is a much bolder colour; but I say the _green_ one suits you much better _and_ it brings out those gorgeous eyes of yours,” Emi reasoned.

 

                “Sounds to me like you’re just arguing over whether to put me in Gryffindor or Slytherin clothing,” Harry said, shaking his head. His eyes narrowed when the girls inclined their heads to shoot each other knowing looks; a mischievous smirk mirrored on each woman’s face that sent a cold shiver down Harry’s spine. “Uh, you know,” he began to say slowly, cautiously, wanting to placate both women before they resorted to anything drastic. “I could just get both.”

 

                “What an _excellent_ idea, Harry,” Kathy said in a sickly sweet tone.

 

                “Indeed,” Emi agreed as she slowly stalked up to him fluidly, like a deadly panther silently stalking up to its unsuspecting prey. Harry gulped but he took in the smug smiles that curled the women’s lips with cautious eyes. He realized belatedly that this had been their plan all along – to get him to buy everything they were suggesting.

 

Harry just sighed in defeat and dropped back down onto the plush seat behind him. To his side was an already large pile of clothes the women had coerced him into purchasing. Around him were countless shopping bags for the women themselves.

 

Harry had spent the hours of the first two days being dragged around by the Malfoy women as they went to the cities and shopped to their heart’s content. And to top it all off; Harry had paid for everything. Emi, apparently, was visiting on her own and she went about wearing casual – yet still eye grabbing – clothing, stylish sunglasses and pulled back her hair into a simple ponytail, or at times an elegant braid. They avoided getting her noticed but at the same time they didn’t worry about it too much. Emi was sure to have thought of what she’d do if she _was_ recognized.

 

Even though he was utterly bored out-of-his-mind, Harry went along with the women anyway. He’d missed spending time with some of his own friends from back home. Finally though, they put him out of his misery by declaring themselves done for the day after lunch and they made their way back to the mansion. They made it back in time for Harry to catch one of Logan’s classes. When asked where he was dashing off to; he’d happily invited the girls to join them. Thus, the two shrugged nonchalantly at one another before telling him to lead the way. He grinned at them in a sort of childish-glee at the thought of being able to show off the students to them as he led them to the Danger Room.

 

Although the Professor had graciously welcomed the ladies and also offered them accommodations, the Malfoy women had hardly ventured around the Mansion of their own accord. They’d also politely turned down his offer for lodgings, saying that they had a ‘tent set up on the Mansion’s boundaries’. Most of the adult mutants had raised their brows in an incredulous pose at the thought, but Harry had nodded knowingly – recalling the unlimited amount of luxury a _magical_ tent could provide. Harry had frowned a little at the fact that Emi had had their house-elf, Minny, travel back and forth between the _continents_ so as to serve their needs. He’d had a little chat with said elf, who was glad to see him again, and she’d shyly clued him in onto the ‘latest gossip’ whilst she also conjured some of her specialty chocolate chip cookies – a guilty pleasure of Harry’s.

 

Arriving at the designated door, Harry rapped his knuckles on the solid metal door a few times before mentally unlocking the door himself and stepping in, Emi and Kathy trailing in after him. They arrived to see the students dutifully continuing the duels that Harry had put together for them. He’d pasted the listing on the wall but didn’t really expect them to go through with them while he was away.

 

At the moment, it was Rogue against Pyro. The rest of the students were gathered around the designated arena; some cheering for the two, some murmuring excitedly among themselves as they watched the fight. Harry heard Logan’s firm voice carry out as he called out at movements that the spectating students should observe and learn from. Harry’s lips were pulled into a surprised and pleased smile unconsciously. The two women behind him didn’t miss the somewhat awed expression on Harry’s face.

 

Beside Logan, a woman turned and her face lit up when she saw the three approaching. “Harry!” said Storm. “I didn’t expect you to be back so quickly.”

 

                “Me neither,” Harry laughed. Logan turned when Ororo had spoken up and his own brows raised, obviously surprised to see Harry as well.

 

                “Come take a look,” Ororo continued. “You should be proud. The kids are doing very well.” Harry nodded at her beckoning and stood on Ororo’s other side whilst the two Malfoy women stood idly by as well – taking in the duelling scene with appraising eyes.

 

                “I am,” Harry admitted, his lips curled into a satisfied smile as he watched the clashing mutants. The past week was very fruitful for both Harry and the students. Harry had been able to get to know each student better and also mentor each of them on how they could improve. He was very impressed when the students put a lot of effort into implementing his advice and trained hard. Harry found himself often beaming brightly when they managed to bring their skills to greater heights.

 

If Harry recalled correctly, Rogue must’ve been able to beat Kitty to have advanced; and Pyro having defeated Bobby. He was surprised, to tell the truth. He imagined that Bobby would have emerged the victor out of their duel considering he was the much more level-headed one out of the two. Pyro must’ve really put himself into his training to have outdone him.

 

Harry smiled, he was proud of Pyro. He knew the boy’s annoyance at the discrimination against mutants and his own festering hate for humans because of it. Harry had hoped to try his best to pacify the boy’s negative feelings lest it cause him to make a grave mistake later on.

 

Most people seemed to view Rogue’s powers as quite a threat, but the girl itself not. After all, the main flaw in Rogue’s mutation was that she needed to come into direct contact with another mutant for it to work. She herself had been sceptical when Harry had told her that she had lots of potential in her. Now though, it was obvious that Rogue was seeing herself in a new light and thoroughly enjoyed her Defense classes.

 

Harry was still trying to put together a way for her to be able to _control_ her powers; so that she could call on it when she needed it, instead of it being an ever-present part of her life. He’d been speculating some ideas with his ‘portraits’ and also testing a few theories, but he’d not said a word to Rogue about it yet.

 

                “Her movements have sharpened,” Logan’s gruff voice commented. Harry and Ororo shot him a glance, but Logan’s eyes remained trained on the duo. Although his posture seemed relaxed, Harry could see that his eyes were alert. Harry turned back his own attention to the pair, nodding.

 

                “Yes, it has.” Harry agreed. He didn’t catch Logan’s eyes flickering once to Harry’s form surreptitiously.

 

“I’m guessing that was your doing,” Logan continued. Ororo, between the two men, had an amused expression donning her features as she watched the men converse without looking at one another. Harry nodded once more.

 

“It is,” he conceded, “Rogue has a lot of potential. It’s only she herself that needs to realize it before she could improve.”

 

“Hm,” Logan rumbled in agreement. “I know. I’ve watched her. Her biggest obstacle was always herself. Because she…”

 

“Feared herself,” Harry finished, “yes. I spent time with her outside of classes. Talked to her about her ability.”

 

“She told me,” Logan admitted. “Said you were pretty damn enthusiastic about it.”

 

“Really?” Harry laughed, his head tipping back indulgently.

 

Logan’s eyes flashed to the side once, furtively eyeing the pale expanse of Harry’s neck as it arched back, a hearty rumble vibrating through it. He swallowed thickly. Ororo and Emi were both watching Logan’s slightly tensed form with sly twists of their lips.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Harry shook his head, still laughing a little softly; “she’s a good kid.” His eyes returned to appreciate Rogue’s determined strikes. “She has a perfect body form,” he commented. If it were anyone else who _weren’t_ other appreciators of the art of combat; they’d take Harry’s statement as a rather poor innuendo. Logan, however, merely dipped his head in agreement.

 

                “I know what you mean. If she trains herself right, the girl could be a force to reckon with,” Logan acknowledged. Really, Rogue had quite a few advantages to herself. Her body wasn’t too suited for harsh combat but if proficient enough, she could learn to subdue just about anyone without exerting herself. On a separate note, the fact that Rogue was actually quite a beautiful girl didn’t hurt either. If she only knew what she was doing, Logan would have had to be extra careful himself.

 

Rogue was using her dexterity to her advantage against Pyro. She, having the advantage of knowing Pyro’s faults, knew that his major fault was that he often let his emotions rule his actions. She bounced on the balls of her feet, the muscles in her calves tensing as they gave her bursts of speed to effectively dodge the fire that Pyro threw at her without pause. Her body spun and twirled, ducked and swayed nimbly around the dangerous attacks.

 

Harry observed Rogue’s form closely, silently approving of her vast improvement so far as he took in the way she kept her body fluid and lax, crouched slightly, eyes fixed determinedly on Pyro; watching as each new attack was thrown her way. Her breathing was kept even; deep breaths in and out. Harry smiled unconsciously in pride even as he heard the murmurings of other students who were commenting – rather inaccurately – that it only seemed to be a matter of time before Rogue would fall.

 

He heard comments such as ‘feel sorry for her… against Pyro’; ‘her ability’s really tough to use’; ‘can’t get close to him enough to do anything’; ‘can’t keep dodging forever’. At least the last one had _some_ truth in it. Although, it wasn’t really _Rogue_ that was the problem there. All of the adults could tell that Rogue was purely biding her time as Pyro grew fatigued with the overuse of his powers. When the moment revealed itself, she would grasp it and strike. Their only concern was that Rogue would be able to catch and seize the moment before it was lost.

 

                “So Harry,” Ororo’s voice cut in conversationally. Harry inclined his head to motion that he was listening, his eyes darting only once to meet hers before returning to the duel. “I think I know how I want to cash in that IOU of yours.”

 

                “What?” Harry said, his attention caught as he turned to her. His face was blank for a second before lighting up when he realized that she was referring to the time in which he hadn’t been able to reciprocate something after witnessing Ororo’s abilities. “Oh.”

 

                “Mhmm,” she hummed, nodding; a twinkle in her eye which caused Harry’s brows to furrow ever-so-slightly in concern as to what she had cooked up for him. “The class has given me an _excellent_ idea,” she said slowly, stalling. Harry’s nerves were jittery as tension built up, wanting her to just put him out of his misery already.

 

                “Yes?” he urged, earning a knowing smirk from Ororo, clearly enjoying his anxiousness.

 

                “I want to see you duel,” Ororo said simply. Harry’s brows shot up, incredulous. Around them, Logan and the two ladies too had turned at the sentence – the three obviously having been eavesdropping on their conversation earlier.

 

                “What?” Harry repeated lamely. One corner of Ororo’s lips curled into a sadistic smile.

 

                “With _Logan_.”

 

                “Wh—with _what?_ ” Harry said yet once more, his mouth hanging open as he stared dumbly at her triumphant expression.

 

                “Yep. You heard me,” she said, nodding approvingly to herself. “You can’t back out if this, Harry. You owed me,” she noted mischievously, eyeing him with a single raised brow; daring him to say otherwise. Harry’s mouth opened and closed silently, like a feeding fish. There was a cheer in the background that didn’t register into Harry’s mind. He heard words like they were said underwater. Something about Pyro being down.

 

                “But—”

 

                “No buts,” Ororo cut in, waving a finger mock-disapprovingly. Then, she spun on her expensive leather-booted heels and began striding purposefully to the door. With a final tip of her head and glance back at him, she smiled; “you have a week!” With that, she exited gracefully out the door; long limbs and all.

 

                “Wh—What just.. huh?” Harry stuttered eloquently. Kathy giggled at the dumbfounded expression he wore as Emi placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her, finding himself further bewildered by the amused look on her own face.

 

                “I must say,” she began, “I’m quite looking forward to seeing this myself.” Her eyes darted to gaze a little haughtily at Logan, effectively running her eyes over his body, sizing him up; all with a holier-than-thou countenance on. Logan merely raised a challenging brow at her as he habitually crossed his arms, tilted his head back and smirked in his usual stance. Emi’s mouth curled into a pleased smile and Logan felt like he’d just gotten the stamp of approval as the woman turned her attention back to Harry, patting his shoulder consolingly.

 

Then, bodies tensed and some let out small gasps of surprise when the Professor’s voice brushed the minds of everyone in the Mansion. Harry and the other two witches themselves could hear the message; regardless of the fact that they all practiced Occlumency. This was mostly due to the fact that the Professor wasn’t trying to get information _out_ of their minds or _invade_ it, but rather putting his own words into it – speaking mentally.

 

_ Will all Professors please make your way to my office as soon as possible, thank you. _

 

Harry turned to glimpse questioningly at Logan who did nothing in return as he merely nodded once at the students and began to make his way out. Harry was surprised and turned to the ladies who shrugged and motioned for him to go on. He hesitated for only a second, pursing his lips in thought, before making up his mind and going after Logan. _Damn was that bugger quick_ , Harry thought as he rounded the corner to see no Logan in sight.

 

Jogging up at a measured pace, it didn’t take long for Harry to reach the door to the Professor’s office. Slowing down, he panted slightly as he placed his hands on the ornate door, frowning. It was locked. Pursing his lips, Harry closed his eyes and reached out mentally. _Professor?_

 

_Ah, Harry ,_ the Professor’s voice came back conversationally. _What can I do for you?_

 

_I’m_ … he hesitated, unsure what exactly he could say. He settled for; _Can I come in?_ There was a moment of silence and Harry began to think that the Professor was going to say no. His curiosity would’ve been peaked, for sure, but Harry would have no doubt left the matter alone for the moment, if that was what the Professor wanted. This train of thought was cut off when the door clicked and swung open, to his surprise.

 

What small chatter that was going on had abruptly stopped the moment the door opened. Harry tentatively stepped into the office somewhat sheepishly but steadily. He received various looks of surprise and confusion from all the professors that were gathered in the room, all of whom were facing Professor Xavier at his desk. Harry gave a curt nod once to the entire group before turning his own eyes to the Professor who smiled minutely.

 

                “Mr Potter,” Xavier greeted, nodding in acknowledgement.

 

                “I’m sorry if I’m intruding professor,” Harry began; mainly to pacify the rest of the staff since he already knew that if he was intruding the Professor wouldn’t have let him in. “Your message sounded rather urgent. Forgive me if I’m rude, but is there anything I can help you with?”

 

The Professor seemed fairly surprised _and_ pleased at Harry’s offer of assistance. He took a moment to ponder over it. Quite a moment. Harry was beginning to feel a little queasy at interrupting after a while and was wondering if maybe he could just apparate out of there or something.

 

                “Not to worry, Harry,” Xavier finally said. Xavier turned his attention to his staff contemplatively as he addressed them all as a whole. “As I was saying, the reason why I’ve called you here was because I’ve caught wind that _Mystique_ was spotted recently.” This caught everyone’s attention.

 

                “Mystique?” Ororo echoed. “Where?”

 

                “It would seem that she is in town,” Xavier said in a grave tone. “Although why she would return here I am not sure. Erik’s plans usually involve.. international matters.”

 

                “She could be staking out some place that Magneto’s got his eye on,” Scott cut in.

 

                “Well it’s not like she’s going to come to the Mansion though, is she?” Jean voiced a little warily.

 

                “No, I don’t believe that to be the case,” Xavier shook his head solemnly. “Erik has never returned to the Mansion since we parted ways. And I doubt that he intends to start something in New York.”

 

                “Well that why would that woman be here then?” Logan said gruffly, annoyed that they didn’t seem to be going anywhere with this.

 

Harry was watching the debate going on with all of the room’s other occupants calmly. He had no idea who this ‘Mystique’ figure was, but it didn’t seem like she was on friendly terms with them; that much was clear.

 

                “That’s what I’m worried about,” Xavier continued, referring to Logan’s question. “We will not take any action for now, but I would like some of you to go out and see what you can find out about her presence here.” He looked to Jean and Scott first, the silent question in his eyes. They both nodded understandingly, already beginning to confer about setting up reliefs for their classes and preparing for the trip.

 

                “I’m goin’ too,” Logan spoke up. “If it’s her, there’s no telling what she’s up to. Best we be prepared in case,” he reasoned. Then, he turned his head slightly to shoot an amused look in Harry’s direction which caught Harry off guard, his own eyes widening in confusion. “Besides,” Logan continued with a growing smirk. “Harry here can look after the kids for me. He’s already just about taken over my classes anyways.”

 

                “That’s just because you’re doing a half-assed job!” Harry sputtered indignantly. The other professors turned to watch the man with amused expressions and Xavier chuckled warmly at the two’s antics. Logan’s smirk held and he merely tilted his head back slightly, looking down at Harry with a glint in his eye. Harry was frowning up at the man; the two having a rather intense contest of staring the other down.

 

                “Well, that is alright with me,” Xavier said, catching their attentions. “I too agree that Harry has been very helpful to the students,” he nodded to Harry with an appreciative smile.

 

                “Oh uh… thank you,” Harry stammered, slightly embarrassed. Xavier waved his words away easily.

 

                “That’s settled then,” he said. “You will leave tonight. Jean, Scott,” he called out. The two voiced their affirmatives and Jean was murmuring quick words to Logan before they dashed off in their separate ways. The rest of the professors excused themselves one by one and left as well. “Now Harry,” the Professor began just as Harry was turning to leave as well.

 

                “Yes, Professor?” he answered.

 

                “Please, call me Charles. You and I both know that _I_ could be the one calling _you_ ‘professor’,” Xavier noted. Harry ducked his head a little, smiling softly, but nodded nonetheless. “Not to mention we’re already of equal standing here. You are not one of my students, Harry,” he said with a pointed look. Harry smiled grew slightly and he nodded once more.

 

                “Did you need something, Professor?” he asked, trying to keep them on topic.

 

                “Ah yes,” Xavier cleared his throat softly. “I hear from Ororo that she’s declared a _duel_ between you and Logan,” he said, raising an extremely entertained brow whilst doing so.

 

                “Oh,” Harry sighed, shoulders slumping somewhat. He looked around for a moment before dropping himself dramatically onto a plush chair in front of the Professor; his body looking boneless and an arm coming up to rub at his forehead – making him seem much older than he looked. “Right, _that_.”

 

                “Indeed,” Xavier agreed, eyeing the man with a fond smile. “You _do_ realize that Ororo wouldn’t hold it against you if you truly wished to not go through with her request, do you not?”

 

Harry looked up at him, both wearing semi-serious expressions. “Yes, I know.”

 

                “Oh?” Xavier noted, a fairly confused brow rose. “And yet you seem to be rather _resigned_ to the fact that you would have to go through with it.”

 

                “Well,” Harry began, finally seating himself properly and facing the Professor. “Um…” he faltered, not really sure if he should be saying this. He peeked up at the Professor to see Xavier watching him patiently. He exhaled and started once more. “I was thinking that maybe… if I were considering securing my place here in the Mansion… it would be a start in telling the others the truth?”

 

Xavier’s other brow now joined its partner as they both went up in a show of incredulity. Then, they lowered as a familiar, warm smile spread across the Professor’s face. “Oh Harry,” he said in such a fatherly tone that Harry seemed a little taken aback and yet warmed at the same time. “You are always welcome here. And as they say; ‘home is where the heart is’ and even though I’m sure that London will always be your _true_ home, you know you can always call the Mansion your home as well.”

 

Harry swallowed thickly, feeling his chest tightened in a pleasant way. The tiniest of smiles touched his lips. His eyes dropping its gaze down as he listened to the Professor. He realized belatedly that he had unintentionally achieved that very ‘place to belong’ that Harry had set out for in the first place.

 

                “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Harry. It can be done all in due time. If, however, this is really your wish, then I see no reason why not. I’m sure the children will love you no less,” he paused thoughtfully as he thought about that statement. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you became _more_ popular with the students actually,” he added with a laugh that had Harry joining in good-naturedly in agreement.

 

“Harry,” Xavier said once more, leaning forward to catch the man’s attention. “Your decisions are your own. I’m glad you decided to let me know beforehand, but you should know that I would support your decision either way.”

 

                “I know,” Harry nodded. “Thanks Professor—uh, Charles,” he corrected, looking at the aged man before him.

 

                “Always a pleasure, Harry,” he replied, leaning back contentedly now. Harry took his cue and stood up, brushing himself off and feeling rather light on his feet. He bid his goodbyes to the Professor and left, a minor feeling of childish excitement brewing within him as he went off in search of his goddaughters.


	13. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

It was last period and Harry knew there weren’t any more Defence classes for the day so he decided to find Emi and Kathy and hopefully manage to coerce them into going out into the gardens with him. He found the women loitering around casually in one of the living rooms, having set themselves comfortably in one of the sofas and quietly speaking to one another. Harry smiled as he approached them. No doubt hearing his footsteps, they turned curiously to see Harry. Both smiled and greeted him, neither mentioning a word about the earlier situation with Xavier.

 

                “I’m going outside for some air,” he said, “would either of you like to join me?” Harry watched as they silently turned to one another before Kathy shrugged and leapt up, hooking her arm around Harry’s and Emi pushing herself off the sofa fluidly.

 

                “Lead the way,” Kathy said sunnily, a bright smile on her face as usual.

 

They strode outside into the gardens at a leisurely pace, simply enjoying nature in companionable silence. “So…” Harry began slowly after a moment, sneaking a peek at the women by his side. They both gave soft noises to indicate that he had their attentions. “What do you think?”

 

                “Harry,” Emi scoffed somewhat, “don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking about first impressions now?” Kathy too was holding in a giggle, shaking her head by her mother’s side. Harry merely shrugged.

 

                “Never too late, I say,” he countered playfully. Emi rolled her eyes. It was Kathy who answered him, however.

 

                “I think it’s fantastic,” she piped in good-naturedly.

 

                “The kids are all very cute,” Emi smirked slightly. Katy nudged her mother for the remark but they were all smiling anyway. “I think that Xavier is doing a good thing for these kids,” Emi finally answered seriously. Harry nodded in agreement to her statement.

 

                “So Harry,” Kathy drawled in what sounded like quite a seedy tone this time, leering at him mischievously as she hooked an arm around his – probably to ensure he didn’t escape whatever it was that she had planned.

 

                “Yeah?” he asked, trying to keep calm and figure out what might be going on in Kathy’s head.

 

                “What do you think about Logan?” she asked straight out. To her side, Emi face-palmed dramatically; although neither Kathy nor Harry were paying much attention to her.

 

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. He had a feeling this wasn’t merely about what he ‘thought about Logan’, by the look Kathy was giving him. Not to mention the sadistic glint of glee in her eyes. She, however, merely shrugged in a convincingly nonchalant way.

 

                “What do you think?” she repeated unhelpfully. “It’s a simple question, Harry,” she added, baiting him.

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but he answered nonetheless, albeit a little guardedly. “He’s a good guy, you can tell that pretty easily. The guarded appearance he puts on is… understandable,” he commented. “He told you of his inability to age, did he not?” the women nodded silently. “Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve ended up like him if it weren’t for Hermione and all of you guys knocking me over the head every now and then and supporting me this whole time,” he admitted softly.

 

                “So you’re trying to do to him what we’ve done for you?” asked Emi simply.

 

                “Well, that too,” he smiled somewhat ruefully. “And maybe…”

 

                “Good to know you’re not alone, right?” Kathy guessed, with a sneaky glance at her mother; the two sharing a silent secret between one another.

 

Harry was staring thoughtfully at the forest before them, not catching the scheming interaction. He nodded absentmindedly instead. “Yes, that too,” he breathed softly.

 

Kathy smiled knowingly. She, as with many of the other women close to Harry, was a very smart individual. Even though the main ‘reason’ for Hermione and their persistence in getting Harry out of his little safety bubble and into the world was to explore, one of the other reasons that it was suggested was because that, knowing their crazy world, there was bound to be someone out there to whom Harry could relate to. Well, obviously it didn’t even take all that long to find it either. Also, it definitely didn’t hurt to see that Harry was getting on _quite_ well with said person.

 

                “Well,” Emi cut in abruptly. “I say he’s a pretty good catch,” nodding to herself proudly. Harry coloured uncomfortably as Kathy giggled.

 

                “Uh…” he stuttered speechlessly. He felt a little uncomfortable as he usually did whenever listening to women gossip about men – or other women too, sometimes. He had no idea why everyone seemed to think he would ever be good company to have when speaking about these sorts of things. On the contrary, he was absolutely useless at these sorts of topics. It was as if he had some neon sign above his head that pointed at him saying; _tell me all your problems, secrets and interests_.

 

“Anyway,” he said, the obvious subject change a tad bit unnecessarily loud. “I was actually wondering…” he snuck a peek to the side to make sure they were even listening to him at all, which they were. “If either of you would maybe like to help me with this… duel?” He ended with a questioning lilt. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see both women’s faces light up at his odd request.

 

                “Really?” asked Kathy, tone somewhat reverent; to Harry’s confusion.

 

                “Um yes,” he answered, “of course. If you don’t mind,” he added hastily, not wanting to make them feel obligated.

 

                “Oh I would _love_ to Harry,” Kathy almost squealed in her excitement. Then she proceeded to mutter to herself. Harry caught disconnected words like _chance_ , _test_ , _famous_ , and _first-hand_.

 

                “Sure you haven’t gone all senile and hopeless on us yet, Potter?” Emi commented with an arrogant Malfoy smirk plastered on. Harry merely took the insult in stride and smiled crookedly at her in turn.

 

                “Well you’re just going to have to wait and see, won’t you?” he remarked light-heartedly. As the two exchanged easy banter, Kathy’s sharp gaze caught an approaching student that she’d recognized earlier as curiously named _Rogue_. She noticed the girl had eyes on Harry and Kathy smiled at the girl as she came up to them.

 

                “Hello,” she greeted politely, catching said girl’s attention.

 

                “Oh, hi,” said Rogue, surprised. “You’re um… Harry’s friend, right?”

 

Kathy’s lips curved in amusement as she eyed an oblivious Harry, knowing since their first day that nobody aside from Xavier and Logan were thus far aware of Harry’s true nature. “Yes, that’s right; I’m Katherine, although Kathy’s fine.” She offered her hand and nodded appraisingly as Rogue took it.

 

                “I’m Rogue,” the girl confirmed Kathy’s guess, “I’m in Harry’s Defence class.”

 

                “Ah yes,” Kathy smiled at the mention that it was _Harry’s_ class. “I saw you duelling today. It was a spectacular job.”

 

                “Thanks!” beamed Rogue, blushing slightly at the praise.

 

                “Rogue!” Harry called out, noticing her then. He strode forward to greet her jovially. “Congratulations on your win today! You were absolutely brilliant,” he smiled widely, clapping a hand on her shoulder without hesitation, to Rogue’s surprise, jerking somewhat.

 

                “Thank you Harry,” she blushed further, ducking her head in embarrassment and smiling to herself. Harry watched this with an affectionate smile.

 

                “You did good,” he nodded once more. “Although as always, I’m sure you could do even better for your next match,” he added, already thinking of all the things he could teach her. This time Rogue looked up with a smile, although for a completely different reason.

 

                “Actually,” she said, “I heard about Professor Ororo requesting a duel between you and Logan,” she talked, biting her lip to stifle a grin as she watched Harry’s own smile disappear in minor shock. “Really though; I think the whole school already knows about that.” This time she really did smile and giggle at the blank, lost look Harry was sporting. “I was thinking that maybe if you’d like some help yourself this time, I could maybe… help you,” she offered shyly.

 

                “Oh,” Harry noted, surprised once more. “Well that’s very considerate of you, Rogue. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Although, I did just ask Kathy to help me with that too.”

 

                “Really?” asked Rogue, turning to eye Kathy in astonishment; clearly not having thought that either Malfoy women had any fighting capabilities whatsoever. “Well… okay. That’s—that’s cool,” she stumbled for the right words. “Oh right,” her face lit up as she remembered something quite vital. “Professor Ororo also asked me to tell you that she’s ‘extending the timeframe of the duel’,” she recited dutifully.

 

                “How long?” asked Harry, brows raised in interest.

 

                “Um,” Rogue pursed his lips in thought, eyes drifting off into the distance for a moment. “‘Seven days from Logan’s return’,” she recalled.

 

                “Alright,” Harry nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks, Rogue.”

 

                “No problem, Harry,” she smiled. She then excused herself and headed over to her other friends.

 

Over the span of the following couple of days, aside from his duties of watching over the Defence classes, Harry found himself spending the majority of his time in the forest bordering the Mansion’s territory. He was surprised to find it quite a challenge to slip back into his old and more rigorous routine that he had maintained during his Auror-career years. He woke early, made himself a simple yet healthy breakfast, then walked into the forest for the following couple of hours; emerging only for his classes and occasionally for meals.

 

To say that the Mansion residents were surprised at his determination, serious attitude and discipline towards this upcoming ‘duel’ would be an understatement. They took to his disappearances without comment but there were certainly some worries raised when he began missing meals – although in his defence he did make himself his own food when he returned each night though.

 

What exactly he _was_ doing in the forest, however, was clearly overdramatized by the speculation going around. Some of the things that Harry had heard from Emi and Kathy were so out-there that he had had quite a good laugh out of it. When in reality, most of his time was spent doing simple exercises to get his strength, stamina and fitness up again. Once more, he was shocked to find that he was _severely_ out of practice. Harry berated himself often for letting himself become so slack in his laziness of having ‘eternity’.

 

Whilst he was on his increasingly-long jogs after completing some early morning stretches, Harry would often recall in his mind all of the spells that he had learnt over the course of his lifetime. He shook his head every now and then when he forgot or confused the incantation of a spell. Once he achieved a ‘for now’ satisfactory level of endurance, he spent time casting spells verbally whilst in rapid and constant movement.

 

Kathy, when she managed to get herself there, would duel him harshly with Emi standing off on the side-lines. Sometimes Emi liked to ‘spice things up’ by sneakily shooting some underhanded spells his way as he was too distracted. Harry had shot her various looks at it but let it slide because it successfully kept him on his toes, which was exactly what he needed.

 

Other times, he would look from side to side and, sure that he was alone, sneak off to wander around. Kathy happened to find him missing whenever she showed up while he was on one of his ‘exploration adventures’ but merely shrugged and sat idly on the ground until a sufficiently satisfied and ruffled-looking Harry – sometimes Emi liked to tell her daughter that the look Harry would have on was very similar to that of her ‘grand-aunty Luna’s’ famed dazed-look – stumbled back into their rendezvous point, smiling sheepishly at her knowing look but neither saying a word.

 

Once or twice, Emi had swatted his bum in a joking manner on his return – which had him yelping indignantly in surprise – an amused brow raised. Kathy, with much more tact than her mother, had merely ran her fingers through his hair once each time after his return, her fingers brushing just behind his ear softly before moving on with their own duels.

 

This day, Harry was once again spending his free time between classes in the midst of the trees. He knew from the day before that Emi and Kathy had both planned to go off to spend the better part of their day in town, shopping; as usual. They’d left in the morning, just after catching breakfast with Harry and making sure that he had actually woken up in time to see them off before he retreated into his first class.

 

He’d begun his routine as usual; simple running, stretching and other warm-ups. Then he’d conjured up some metal pseudo-robots as good moving-target practice. Harry had attempted trying to charm them to reflect his own spells off their surfaces so as to force him to defend himself, but he’d had no luck. When he got bored, he even had a few rounds with his snitch to try and better his reaction speed and overall agility.

 

At that moment, however, he was temporarily out of ideas and was also taking a breather. He’d walked off to a small area that he’d altered himself – where it was a small open space with no trees and some rocks scattered around, including even a miniature lake that he’d carved out and filled himself. It was odd, but he enjoyed lingering around the area during his short breaks and, at times, during one of his lazier ‘exploration’ times.

 

All Harry wanted to do then was to let himself fall by the water and just do nothing. So, he decided to do just that. Well, maybe not exactly that.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere deep within the Mansion, the loud roar of jet engines was dying down and several uniformed individuals stepped out of said jet plane. Most walked at a leisurely pace; one or two were also stretching their bodies languidly, producing sighs of satisfaction at the sound of bones popping. One individual, however, was stalking off towards the door in undisguised irritation.

 

                “Logan!” came Scott’s voice, echoing in the hangar. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re supposed to report in to the Professor!”

 

                “Fuck off, Cyclops,” Logan retaliated in a snarl.

 

                “Wh— _Lo_ gan!” Scott continued to chastise him disapprovingly.

 

                “Scott,” Jean’s soft voice cut in as she lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to look at her and she merely shook her head in silent answer. His eyes seemed ready to say otherwise, but with another firm shake of her head, Scott shut his mouth and stayed silent compliantly.

 

Logan was tearing away at his trademark X-Men gear whilst roughly pushing open doors and trailing through the Mansion. Truth be told, there wasn’t really all that much of a reason to his frustration at that moment. In fact, he was only frustrated because he’d just wasted a few days following an empty lead and coming home with nothing to show for it. If it was one thing Logan couldn’t stand; it was unsuccessfully completing something he’d set his eyes on.

 

He, Scott and Jean had set out just a few days short of a week ago to check out the rumours of Mystique having shown up in town. Shortly after they’d arrived, it was clear that regardless of whether or not she _did_ pass through the area, she definitely wasn’t there anymore. They’d then spent the following days trying to discover any sort of trail left by the woman in their own ways, and each came back with nothing. Of the extremely few points that they did manage to get witnessed sightings of Mystique’s familiar ‘human’ form of ‘Raven Darkholme’, they didn’t stand out or offer any help to their search in any way. Most of them had been from drunken men at bars to clerks at convenience stores.

 

Although, this did nothing to put off any suspicion on their part because there were practically _whispers_ of her association and interests in several unique individuals. Not necessarily successful people, but someone who wasn’t entirely innocent in their own rights either.

 

Back at the present time, Logan was striding determinedly through the empty halls of the Mansion to a place where he could vent in the middle of a day, where all of the students were no doubt in class. Sometimes, Logan enjoyed taking out his frustrations on the Professor – who’d usually take the verbal rant in stride. Other times, he’d just barricade himself in his quarters until he’d cooled down. And on some occasions, he would head out to the gardens – only if it was during times when nobody else would be around – and physically let off some steam. In other words, he’d damage some undeserving foliage.

 

He was making his way deeper and deeper into the forest when his sensitive hearing picked up a rustle of movement. Instinctively, he whirled his body toward the direction of the sound, his claws sliding out from between his knuckles fluidly as he crouched his body low and eyed the darkening area with attentive, alert senses. Logan thought he may have been seeing things when he thought he saw a pair of deep green eyes that were unmistakeably the eyes of an animal before they blinked out and disappeared.

 

He snapped out of his musings at the odd pair of eyes when there were more sounds and even the tell-tale snapping of twigs, increasing and heading towards him. A low rumble was emanating from his throat in warning but it immediately died down when a familiar figure emerged into his direct line-of-sight. “Harry?” he said incredulously, relaxing his stance and straightening his back. The figure, Harry, had his head down and was shaking it in an endearingly dog-like manner; some dirt and even a few _leaves_ in his hair.

 

Harry lifted his head, hand still sifting through his messy locks in an effort to make it a little bit tidier, and immediately smiled at Logan; seemingly not at all surprised by Logan’s presence. “Hey Logan,” he said in his usual laid-back manner. “You’re back already?”

 

                “Just got in,” Logan said simply, amused at the scene before him and also somewhat confused as well. “What’ve you been _up_ to?” he asked soon after, still taking in Harry’s dishevelled appearance with a smile curling his lips. “You look like you’ve been rolling around the forest.” This earned a laugh from Harry, to his pleasure.

 

                “Well, you could say that,” Harry answered cheekily, smiling a small, sheepish smile and looking up at Logan. “Actually…” Harry started to say, seriously considering the situation. “I’ve been spending some time here preparing, really.”

 

                “Preparing?” Logan repeated, not yet understanding.

 

                “For our duel,” Harry answered straight-out, a corner of his lips twisting into a confident smirk that was an unusually new – and definitely appreciated – surprise to Logan.

 

                “Oh really?” said Logan, plastering on a smirk of his own, now drawing himself up further and looking down at Harry from his height advantage. “Well, let’s hope you can make it at least a little exciting, huh?” He commented cockily.

 

                “You’d be surprised,” Harry said after rolling his eyes. “Then again, you do kind of have an advantage already since you know what I can do,” he drawled in a bored-act, his eyes lidding slightly and a barely noticeable mischievous glint in his green gems.

 

                “So do I have to show you mine, then?” Logan shot back with a completely _inappropriate_ manner that had Harry blushing involuntarily at the unmistakeable innuendo.

 

                “Um, have you heard about the time extension?” asked Harry, clearly going for a change of subject to something safer. He suspected that Logan would merely turn back the direction of the conversation, but was surprised to see Logan merely raise a brow before Harry received the answer to his subject-change-question in the form of the silence that followed and a slight furrowing of Logan’s brows. “Well, Storm said she’d give the duel a time extension of seven days from your return,” he elaborated with a small, cheeky smile. “So you know what that means for me?”

 

                “You got more time to prepare that I will,” Logan finished, conceding, in his low voice with a slight narrowing of his eyes as he took in the situation before him once more. “So you’ve _not_ merely been rolling around in dirt, then?” he asked cheekily, adding the comment even though they’d already clarified Harry’s actions. He felt an almost unnoticeable rush of fondness and his smirk unconsciously softened at Harry’s childish scowl in response to the quip.

 

                “Of course not,” Harry argued half-heartedly, brushing past Logan to gather his things.

 

                “Leaving already?” asked Logan, his tone an odd mix of soft taunting, worry and regret that he may have offended Harry more than he thought. He watched Harry pause – his back to Logan – before turning around to face him.

 

                “I think I’ve had enough for today,” Harry answered slowly, thinking to himself; _and I’ll probably be too lazy to go on anyway, if what I’d been doing the entire time is any indication of my enthusiasm today_. Harry, in his wisdom and knowledge that he had accumulated from years of experience, had by no means missed the tone of Logan’s voice. Although he was rather confused as to why Logan would feel apologetic for a silly remark at all – even if deep somewhere in his subconscious where he was not _so_ oblivious, his mind recognized the tiny hints of Logan’s seeking for Harry’s approval and happiness – Harry decided not to make Logan feel any worse. With an unconscious tilt of his head towards the direction of the Mansion, Harry asked; “do you want to go get some food?”

 

He watched as Logan’s expression contorted into a look of surprise, then apprehension, and settling for slight suspicion for ulterior motives. “Um, I mean – you just got back right? So you’ve got to be at least a little hungry.” No answer. Then, more quietly, “well, I know I’m _starving_ ,” he finished off with a sheepish smile and bright green eyes peeking out from under dark lashes at Logan.

 

Logan’s body went rigid and he completely froze at the innocently-pleading image that Harry was directing at him. He didn’t even breathe, until he caught himself and promptly shook himself out of it mentally. He imagined he looked quite dumbstruck at the moment but if he did, it certainly wasn’t what Harry saw; since the man was still merely gazing up at him expectantly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

                “Uh,” Logan cleared his throat when his voice came out unnaturally gravelly and high. “Right. Sure, why not.” He felt his chest contracting when Harry threw him a pleased smile and gathered up the remaining of his things before heading off toward the Mansion. Logan managed to get his body to fall in step with Harry and they strode back together, him feeling unnaturally at ease from the moment he fell back into Harry’s companionable presence. “Y’do know dinner ain’t ready yet, right?” he noted just in case as they neared the large glass doors.

 

                “Oh of course I do,” Harry answered without a hitch, smiling to himself a little. “I had actually been thinking about making up something for all three of you when you came back anyway. Sort of…” he trailed off, thinking for the word, “like a ‘welcome home’ meal,” he settled on, pleased.

 

Logan’s brows went up and he turned to look questioningly at Harry, who glanced once in his direction but did not turn his head, instead settling for an easy shrug.

 

                “Call me sentimental, sappy, foolish, silly, whatever. I’ve just always enjoyed doing this sort of little things.” His eyes lowered as his lips settled on a small smile. He thought of something he’d forged under Hermione’s watchful eye. “Even if I’m stuck here whilst time is fleeting for everyone else; I will always treasure everyone I love, and treat them as deservingly for as long as I can – because love touches you, no matter how brief.”


	14. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

“Is it alright with you if I grab a quick shower first?” asked Harry, giving himself a look-over and firmly deciding that his current state was in no way suitable for anything else.

 

                “’s alright. I think we’ll all take one anyway,” Logan said simply. They both then journeyed silently to their respective rooms and proceeded to do just that.

 

As promised, all three that had returned from their ‘recon mission’ had indeed gone off to freshen up in one way or another. Jean had even went to catch some shut-eye before dinner whilst Logan had made his way back to the small kitchen near the living room not long after Harry. Harry had already gathered all he needed from the main kitchen and was well into a comfortable routine as Logan settled himself comfortably in one of the couches and switched on the television, kicking his feet up the coffee table shamelessly.

 

Harry absentmindedly listened to some of the news that was being presented on the telly as he went about his business, handling the cooking easily. Even though the smaller kitchen he was using wasn’t as equipped, Harry had made do and managed to be able to do everything he needed to.  Some of the clearer differences were that there was only an oven and microwave installed, and no stove. He succeeded in doing parts of the process that required a stove by merely keeping the pots and pans hovering in the air with a small flame floating beneath it – a flame which intensity Harry could adjust at will.

 

Before long, Harry was finishing up not long before that usual dinner time. He wiped his hands on a wet cloth whilst allowing the rest of the work to complete itself and went on to grab a few pieces of scrap paper from the table and a pen. On the paper, he scribbled a few copies of the same message requesting that the recipients make their way over to the small kitchen where he and Logan were in. Deftly splitting up the pieces of paper, he cast a quick charm on each of the pieces and they proceeded to fold themselves into simple paper planes which took off without any assistance and zoomed off to random parts of the Mansion.

 

Logan’s head tilted up ever-so-slightly, his quick eyes catching the departing piece of paper, before raising a questioning brow at Harry, who smiled patiently.

 

                “Just letting the others know that dinner’s ready.”

 

Logan nodded once in understanding before pushing himself off the couch and striding up towards Harry and the kitchen island, eyeing the various plates of food scattered before Harry. “Need a hand?” he asked uncharacteristically. Harry’s brows lifted in a miniscule movement, but said nothing about it.

 

                “That would be nice, thanks,” he said, pulling out a drawer and gathering up the required cutlery. He passed over the gleaming utensils over to Logan who set the small table just in front of the kitchen. Whilst he was busy with that, Harry turned around to finish up and pull out the plates. One by one, he put equal servings on each of the plates placed them on the counter for Logan to collect and place onto the table appropriately.

 

Once the table was fully set and ready, Harry poured the rest of the remaining food onto separate dishes and placed them in the centre of the table – in case anybody wanted seconds. In was at this moment that he spotted Jean lingering silently in the archway leading into the area, a delighted expression on her face and her hand just covering her lips. He watched her curiously and noticed her eyes trailing something else. Following her line of sight, Harry looked over to see Logan arranging the plates and then finally pulling out a chair and settling himself in.

 

Confused, Harry looked back over at Jean just in time to see her own eyes darting to his form before widening in realization at being caught staring. He watched in amusement as she immediately looked guilty and strode forward with a small blush. Still not understanding what was wrong, Harry merely welcomed her and pulled out a chair for her opposite from Logan who said simple hello to her in acknowledgement.

 

Not long after, Scott made his way into the room, took one look at the scene – not forgetting his manners and being sure to have greeted each one of them – and took the seat next to Jean, including a quick peck on her cheek which had Logan looking away with a resolutely uncaring attitude.

 

Harry, who was happily oblivious to all of this, merely greeted Scott jovially before taking his seat next to Logan without a thought. This action caused Jean to glance between him and Logan speculatively; but when questioned softly by Scott, she merely shook her head and shushed him in a manner that said the issue would be discussed at another time.

 

Finally, Ororo and Professor Xavier made their entrance – to Harry’s greetings once more – and took their own places each at the ends of the table. “Ah Harry,” the Professor’s friendly voice had said as he entered. “I must thank you for putting all of this together on such short notice.”

 

                “Harry, oh it smells _wonderful_ ,” Storm had crooned, glancing at her own plate pointedly. Harry smiled and thanked her, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

 

                “Yes, I agree Harry, you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble for us,” Jean piped in, to Scott’s agreeing nod.

 

                “Indeed, the X-Men have to frequent missions such as these all the time,” said Scott, “I think it would be quite a hassle for you if you intend on welcoming us home like this every time one of us returns from a mission.”

 

Harry waved a hand at Scott’s words dismissively. “Regardless, I will continue to do so,” he said, eyes crinkling at the memories of welcoming his friends home after finishing their Auror missions; and them doing likewise for his own return. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xavier smile to himself at Harry’s words. “And what is an ‘X-Man’, sorry?” Harry added as an afterthought. He watched in fascination as both Jean and Scott began shooting glances at basically everyone else except for Harry himself.

 

The Professor was merely looking at Harry in a manner that suggested he would answer if only the two would stop their worried gazes and _listen_ , and Logan was, as usual, picking at the shiny cutlery while wearing an utterly bored expression on his face. Harry frowned and his hand shot out to clasp Logan’s wrist so as to stop Logan’s distracting fidgeting. Logan complied easily enough, although not before turning his head and raising a brow paired with his customarily insufferable smirk in Harry’s direction.

 

Not seeing an end to the furtive looks still being shot across the table any time soon, the Professor decided to resort to clearing his throat in order to gain Jean and Scott’s attentions. “The ‘X-Men’, is the title under which we are known as. They are usually a simple group of the Professors from the Academy – or, if the situation calls for desperate measures, some of our more prepared students – who, under my directions, intervene in various mutant-human affairs.”

 

“Speaking of missions,” the Professor’s voice already commanded the attention of everyone at the table, and dismissed any chance of Harry’s further questions on the X-Men for the moment. “I would like you to relay your findings from your recent mission to me once again please, Scott,” he said, with Scott frowning in return. “Just to be sure we’ve covered all that we can,” the Professor continued, giving a definite glance in Harry’s direction. Scott, Jean and Logan’s eyes followed Xavier’s gaze to rest on Harry as well, but only Logan and Harry himself had any inkling of just what the Professor was getting at.

 

                “Right. Well,” Scott cleared his throat as he began, however reluctantly. “As I said earlier—” he was interrupted by Harry raising a hand, open-palmed, much like as if wanting to ask a question in a classroom.

 

                “Sorry,” Harry promptly apologized first. “But am I right to suppose that you would be happy if this were a conversation best kept private?” Before anyone else could answer, Xavier had already nodded in agreement to Harry’s words.

 

                “Would you mind?” Xavier went on to ask politely.

 

Harry smiled pleasantly, “not at all.” He non-verbally cast several charms and spells to ensure that their conversation would be secure. However, he also kept it so that _they_ could still hear anything around them; although to a more muted level. The showy hand-waving Harry did was merely for the benefit of the others to show that he had done something at all. “Alright,” he announced, relaxing his posture – slouching back leisurely in his chair – and nodding to Xavier once more who, in turn, nodded to Scott to resume his report.

 

                “Yes. Well – like I said,” he cleared his throat, not knowing what the hell all that was about. “We turned up nothing. Of the places there was at least a _whisper_ of Mystique’s presence that we had visited, there was no link. The points were unrelated and my best guess is that the only reason she was so careless in those areas were because they had absolutely nothing to do with whatever it is she’s after anyway!”

 

                “Excuse me, um. I understand that I am completely out of the loop here, but who exactly _is_ this ‘Mystique’ character?” Harry asked meekly. “And what do you mean by the evidence being useless?” this time, the question was being directed at Scott’s final statement.

 

                “It’s only because Scott doesn’t know how to look that he thinks that,” Logan cut in before anyone else. “I _spoke_ to some of the chums at those ‘useless’ places you mentioned and it seems pretty clear from the crumbs she’s dropping that she’s trying to gather intel. Your mistake is in thinking that intelligence can only be reliably found in places of high-security. From her scatter of points, I assume that the information _she_ ’s trying to get is something more of rumours and better found on the darker side of town.” Logan sat back in a smug and confident pose that Harry was being accustomed to seeing as Logan’s default setting.

 

                “What are you talking about?” Scott said indignantly, leaning his body forward. He held the tone of someone who did not take well to being told that he was wrong by others. Especially by someone he didn’t particularly get along with; in this case, namely, Logan.

 

At the same time, with the ease of someone entirely too familiar with witnessing the two men’s antics, Professor Xavier turned to Harry. “Mystique is a mutant,” he started to explain, watching as Harry’s brows were drawn up only slightly in both interest and surprise. “As you may or may not know, most mutants tend to adopt a pseudonym to which they are known by in the public.”

 

                “Yes, most of the students insist that I address them in those names. I gathered that they usually have a connection to their abilities?”

 

                “Indeed. Mystique, like her name, is a mystery in itself because she has the ability to take on the form of anyone she wants. As such, she adopts numerous names. Long ago, when I had known her, she went by the identity ‘Raven Darkholme’. This was before she had allied herself with Erik Lensherr; also known as _Magneto_.” Xavier paused to glance around the room once more in a habit to ensure they were alone.

 

“We have often seen Mystique take on her former identity and form when on her own business or for casual means. I would highly doubt anything she instigates whilst in that form to be of much importance to Magneto because it is one that we – the X-Men – easily link to herself.”

 

Harry nodded slowly, taking in the information thoughtfully. “Not that it may help much, but would you happen to have a picture of her in that form?”

 

Xavier nodded instantly and reached into one of his pockets. Harry raised a brow at the implications of Xavier having a picture of Mystique on his person like that but didn’t comment on it. Just as the Professor pulled out the photograph and slid it across the table, Harry caught some of Logan and Scott’s still continued bickering.

 

                “—don’t have any idea just _what_ she’s gathering intel on anyway,” Logan was saying, his voice suggesting that he was letting Scott have the victory for that argument.

 

Focusing himself back to his own task, Harry picked up the old photograph – limp, weathered, with evidence of crinkles and numerous dog-ears on all four corners – and pulling it up to eye-level. He scrutinized the image before his eyes widened when he realized that he had seen the woman on it before – many years ago.

 

                “—Darkholme… Raven Darkholme… ah! I remember now,” Harry exclaimed triumphantly. His outburst cause the table to fall silent as all eyes turned to him.

 

                “You’ve met her?” Scott asked incredulously. He was silenced by the Professor holding up a hand and leaning forward himself.

 

                “When was this, Harry?” he asked in a grave tone.

 

The years were mostly a blur for Harry after becoming ‘immortal’. Mostly because he didn’t want a reminder of never changing with the time. Now, however, he tried to think back to the day that he had first seen the woman in the photograph. Finally, he said, “about… twenty years ago, I believe. Give or take a few.”

 

                “And you’re sure it was her?” Logan asked on the behalf of everyone. Logan was holding up the picture of ‘Raven’. Harry glanced over to see the Professor frowning, a hand drawn up in a thinking pose.

 

                “Yes,” Harry nodded, the memory becoming clearer and clearer as he looked at the image. “It was in Britain.” This elicited a glance between Scott and the Professor, whose face had grown even more grave and serious.

 

                “Harry…” the Professor said slowly, warily. “Was this in… one of _your_ communities?” he asked, meeting Harry’s gaze with a look that clearly conveyed just what the Professor meant.

 

                “No.” The single word caused a ripple of relief to pass through both the Professor and Logan simultaneously. “But…” Harry shared a look with Xavier, pointedly indicating to Scott, Jean and Ororo’s presence. Xavier looked over them once before giving Harry a firm nod in reply.

 

Harry nodded once in return before raising a hand to strengthen the wards already cast. The extra power put behind the reinforcement caused the air surrounding the table to shimmer once before returning to normal. Harry then leaned forward on his elbows and spoke evenly. “We saw her lingering around one of the places our people tend to enjoy in the Muggle world, but, well – it isn’t exactly a place that most… upstanding citizens go to either.”

 

                “We?” Jean echoed. The question ensured that none had missed the meaning behind his last sentence – that Mystique had been spotted around the ‘rougher’ parts of town frequented by his own people.

 

                “One of my god-children,” Harry answered vaguely. Who it was didn’t really matter at that point. Harry looked at Xavier as he added, “he was an Auror.” _Retired, now,_ he thought to himself.

 

                “What was Mystique doing?” Scott asked impatiently, seeing that the Professor seemed to understand what this ‘Auror’ things was and would leave it be for now.

 

Harry sighed and leaned back, “I think it would be easier to just retell the whole encounter, if that’s alright with you?” He got nods from the entire table and made himself comfortable as he recalled the event.

  

* * *

 

_Harry was taking a leisurely stroll with Colin, one of his god-children who was about the same generation as Emi. He’d just decided to stop by the Ministry and drop in to say hi and Colin had mentioned that he was about to get off work soon anyway and asked if Harry wanted to walk back together. Of course, Harry agreed._

_Colin asked Harry if he’d fancy a cup of coffee while they were on their way and Harry had shrugged why not. Although the only place that wasn’t out of their way was a bit shady, neither Harry nor Colin had much worry about getting any trouble. Even if they did run into some complications; they were both perfectly capable of taking care of themselves._

_They’d made their way into the small and dingy café and were in the process of sliding into a booth as a woman came up to them –_ Mystique _._

_“Hello, excuse me, sorry,” the young woman was stuttering slightly. Harry and Colin both shared a look at the American accent before turning back to the woman._

_“Hi, yes, what’s the problem?” Colin asked, putting a hand on the woman’s forearm in an attempt to make her less nervous. She looked up at him gratefully before motioning to a book in her hands._

_“Oh I’m sorry,” she said once more. “There’s no problem. It’s just—um.”_

_Harry sat down and motioned for Colin to do the same. “Why don’t you join us for some coffee?”_

_“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking a seat next to Colin shyly. Once they were settled, Harry asked her how they could help and she looked and them nervously, chewing on her lip in what seemed to be a worried habit. “Are you—uh..” she waved her hand in some sort of motion that neither Harry nor Colin understood. Raising a brow at her, Harry shook his head, showing that he didn’t understand._

_The woman’s hands dropped and her eyes drifted as she thought of a different way to approach the matter. It didn’t take long before she looked up and simply said, “I’m a squib.”_

_Both he and Colin made silent_ oh _’s. “Alright,” Harry said. “So what’s wrong?”_

_“Oh um, nothing,” said the woman. “It’s just—you see, I’m from the States. And, well, people’s always saying that the community here in Britain is huge and really different to ours and well, um, I came over here but then I realized that I really didn’t know how to get around anywhere. I don’t have any relatives or anything here and I’d only managed to get myself into Diagon Alley by chance.”_

_Colin gave a curious glance over at Harry that spoke ‘_ well that’s weird. Most squibs leave the wizarding world alone since they have nothing to do with it. And even then hardly any of them go to Diagon Alley _’. Harry merely shrugged silently and continued to listen._

_“Anyway, I was in one of the bookstores and the man there had recommended some books that gave me some insight about things here and um, after that I haven’t managed to get a hold of anyone who could help me. I came here because it was one of the places I remember he’d mentioned that people like you go to and came here but I was too afraid to ask anyone in case they were… you know.”_

_“Muggles,” Harry had said, understanding._

_She nodded. “Um, really, it probably isn’t even worth all this trouble but I’d just wanted to ask someone to clarify some things for me you see.”_

_“Such as?” Colin asked, glancing at the book in her grasp and recognising it as a simple history book._

_“Well, uh—the American Ministry doesn’t really say much about the affairs of other countries and I only realized just how much we missed when I was reading up and I mean; did you_ really _go through_ two _wars in less than a century?” She asked, sidetracked._

_Colin frowned, looking at Harry once more. “Yes,” he said slowly. “That’s right.”_

_“Right, well. It all just seemed so impossible that something like this was happening and I’d hardly even heard about it,” she said breathlessly. “So it’s true then? What they say in the books?”_

_Harry reached over to take the book from her just after asking permission and was flipping through the pages to see that it was quite up-to-date – including both wars with Voldemort in it._

_“That a boy named_ Harry Potter _defeated the Dark Lord at_ seventeen?” _she asked. “And well, this might sound a little stupid, but what exactly_ is _the Dark Lords’ name? I’ve only ever read it as You-Know-Who and the Dark Lord.”_

_“Voldemort,” Harry said, clearing his throat and passing the book over to Colin. “‘I am Lord Voldemort’ was an anagram of his birth name; Tom Marvolo Riddle. Yes, it’s true.”_

_The woman merely looked stunned for a moment before thanking Harry for helping her. “And his followers? These um… Death Eaters, was it? They’re all in jail?”_

_Colin frowned at her mention of ‘jail’ instead of ‘Azkaban’ but remained silent, flipping nonchalantly through her book. “No,” he answered, gaze still on the book. “There’re still rogue followers of Voldemort out there. But that’s what we have the Aurors for, yeah?” he added, finally shutting the book and returning it to her._

_“Oh, okay. But—they’re not very dangerous now, are they?” she asked, with a hint of worry in her voice. Colin clasped her arm and Harry smiled encouragingly as Colin answered her._

_“No, they’re not. Hardly a force to be scared of, don’t worry.”_

_“Ah, okay. Thank you so much. I think that’s all I wanted to know, thanks. It’s just—it all seemed very surreal, you know? When I read it.” She slipped out of the booth and bowed slightly. “Oh, oh! Where were my manners. I’m sorry, I’m Raven. Raven Darkholme. Thank you so much for your help.”_

_They smiled. “Colin Riley,” said Colin, shaking a hand. He motioned to Harry as he was politely extending a handshake and said, “this is my colleague, John Dawson.” Harry smiled, beguilingly, and said nothing. Once the woman had exited, Harry immediately turned on him._

_“John Dawson? Really?”_

_Colin waved over the waitress to take their order. “Oh please, Harry. You should just be glad I didn’t call you John Smith; or John Doe._

 

* * *

 

                “We both thought the encounter was quite odd,” Harry said thoughfully. “But then again, considering the jobs we’d completed, it was hardly that surprising.

 

Logan had his eyes narrowed. “What was she asking about your history for?” he growled unhappily.

 

Scott and Jean were had both been leaning in toward the Professor whilst Harry was speaking. Xavier had telepathically gave them a summary of Harry which raised brows and looks of incredulity.

 

                “Harry?” the Professor asked, no doubt asking for Harry’s opinion.

 

Harry pursed his lips and clasped his hands on the table, taking in a breath. “Based on her questions? I can’t be sure. Thinking about it in context to now… it sounds like she’s interest in Voldemort’s followers. Maybe she’s trying to make a pact with the Darks?”

 

                “But didn’t you say that they aren’t a threat now?” Scott voiced, ignoring all the other questions he wanted to ask for the moment.

 

                “I did, yes,” Harry sighed. “But that was on _our_ viewpoint. If she manages to get them to work together with this ‘Magneto’ fellow of yours, it’s completely different. From what I know, Magneto seems to be out for the regular humans, no? In that case, it doesn’t matter if he only gets five dark wizards on his side. Humans hardly stand a chance against mutants. Putting them against mutants _and_ dark wizards will be a sure-fire way to achieve whatever his goals are.”

 

Scott was rubbing his fingers into his temples, most likely staving off an incoming headache at this new development. Now they didn’t just have to worry about their own kind but _wizards_ too?

 

                “What do you suggest we should do to confront this situation, Harry?” Xavier asked. “It is, after all, your speciality, is it not?”

 

Harry’s lips twitched in amusement at the comment but he nodded seriously and considered his options at the moment. “You’re friends with Agent Coulson’s SHIELD organization, right? And they’re an intelligence organization? It would be good if you can contact them to keep and eye on Magneto’s movements for the past two decades regarding anything to do in Britain. Dark wizards in America aren’t as much of a problem as where I’m from.

 

“Be sure that they keep it mum and only for the higher-ups, yeah? There’s still the Statue to worry about, regardless. If you want, you could probably ask Hank to let the President know. The President will be aware about the Ministry here. If need be, Hank can act as intermediary between us, the President and the Ministry. I’m sure there’ll be someone from the American Ministry already in the White House anyway.

 

“For now there’s not much we can do but figure out how far Magneto’s at with this. I’ll ask Kathy to look them up and let you know what I can find, as well as my own acquaintances back home,” he nodded to Xavier who thanked him gratefully.

 

“Now for goodness sakes; no more business at the table,” he said, waving his fingers to reheat the food he’d prepared. “This is supposed to be a pleasant dinner affair.”


	15. Turning the Gears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)
> 
> Also, this chapter has not been given a quick read-through so there may be some mistakes.

Regardless of the new turn of events, all of the adults continued with life as normal. Harry had moved on to implementing moving-target practice with the Defence classes for the benefit of more fatal attacks that he didn’t want the students performing on their friends.

 

In the safety of the Danger Room, he’d conjure various humanoid targets much like those the DA had used in their fifth year. In a way, the dummies could be for his own benefit as well. Often between lessons when he couldn’t be bothered to make his way to the forest, he’d conjure up quite a number for himself to practice on. Although they couldn’t effectively attack him back, the number and their nimbleness were enough to keep him busy.

 

When they could, Harry had still managed to keep up his and Kurt’s sparring at times. It was most helpful considering Kurt was quite a formidable opponent in his own right. Aside from that, the more familiar sparring he had were the few against Kathy or Emi. It was familiar because they were both witches and thus each knew just about everything the other could dish out.

 

He hadn’t forgotten about Rogue’s offer either. Even though at first it seemed like merely a polite thing to do, after a little thought, Harry had thought that the main thing he’d have to focus on when going against Rogue was fighting in a weakened state. He was admittedly rather curious about it, but not going to risk it for now because they still didn’t know what would happen if Rogue were to absorb Harry’s magical abilities.

 

On the note of Magneto’s movements, the Professor had informed all of them that he’d gotten in contact with Agent Coulson who had agreed to help and would be letting them know about what SHIELD had on Magneto’s movements as Harry had requested. Coulson had, unfortunately, needed to report the situation to his superior – Director Fury – who’d apparently sworn colourfully before nodding for Coulson to get right onto it. Xavier had said that Coulson mentioned the probability of them meeting up to discuss the matter at a later date.

 

Hank was stuck at the moment because the President was apparently busy with other matters and had said he would try his best to do what he could. But for now, they were ‘on hold’ in that regard.

 

As promised, both Emi and Kath had immediately dialled up their contacts for ‘all information about a certain ‘squib’ named _Raven Darkholme_ and her movements in the last twenty years’. After acquiring both the pseudonyms and human names of those in Magneto’s ‘Brotherhood’, the girls had also sent for their people to run background checks on them – both magical and muggle.

 

The next day, the girls had had to say their goodbyes and return home, to his dismay. There was a touching farewell between them just outside the doors of the Mansion and they both gave him kisses on his cheeks in goodbye. They had also made him promise to visit sometime soon, which he did, albeit a little reluctantly. Emi had told Harry she would keep him updated on the information he had requested and also told him to connect the Mansion’s fireplace so that it would make things easier to reach one another. Scott had driven them both to the American Ministry and returned to let Harry know that they had left safely.

 

Harry had also gotten hold of the Aurors he’d still had some contact with, including various Ministry workers still loyal to him. He’d requested a list of all known Dark Wizards that had yet to be captured – which had raised some confusions but no arguments – and for the Ministry’s cooperation.

 

Truthfully, Harry had felt a little bad at the hesitance he’d had of calling the Ministry representatives that were more of acquaintances than friends, because he didn’t exactly want word to get around that he was – god forbid – getting back ‘into the game’ again, as some people liked to claim whenever he expressed some sort of interest in criminal movements.

 

Then again, considering he’d raised, taught or trained what made up the core of the Ministry itself, he hoped that he’d at least maintained enough respect from them so that they don’t get too nosy in his business this time.

 

For now, he was gearing up for some busy days ahead. His duel with Logan was scheduled to be in about 3 days, Agent Coulson was set to come visit the Mansion the following day, and Harry was in the midst of discussing with Professor Xavier the possibility of him taking a quick trip back to London to be in better contact with his people.

 

* * *

 

Logan was lounging against the bed in his room, laid out on his back with his hands behind his head as he looked up at the blank ceiling. He sighed, shifting in his position before shutting his eyes tiredly. In contrast to the silence and serenity of his room, Logan’s mind was whirring with thoughts.

 

He was not an idiot, as many seem to believe. He’d just had no desire or felt any need to show off like some people he knew. One thing that had been plaguing Logan’s mind for the past few days was Harry. Oh, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the man himself. It was Logan’s own attitude and _feelings_ toward the other man that was worrying him so.

 

He would admit – albeit if only to himself at this stage – that he _had_ been rather sceptical in the beginning when the Professor had ‘entrusted’ him to get along with Harry. Although to his surprise, he had then discovered it remarkably easy to get along with the man. He couldn’t really put into words just why he felt so comfortable around Harry, but he did. They grew closer to one another each day, the bond between them strengthening steadily. If Logan tried to explain it, one of the reasons they understood one another could be their similar experiences and life leading up to then.

 

Although Harry absolutely did _not_ look like it, Logan could see for his very own eyes proof of Harry’s prowess almost every day. And instead of putting him on guard as it should, it merely caused Logan to be pulled towards the other man even more. For one thing, he definitely admired the way Harry held himself. Logan had seen it in very few others. And what set Harry apart from everyone else was his simple _openness_. Nobody who managed to live a life like theirs long enough maintained any form of purity. Always, they would create a hard shell around themselves, a barrier, to shield them from any and all harm intended towards them.

 

Be it physical or mental, it was hard for someone like them to ever let that wall come down. It was like a permanent fixture; a _part_ of them. However, he witnessed Harry pulling down his entire fortification each and every day. Not only did he manage to _trust_ others – especially people of whom he had hardly known – but he was probably one of the most sincere and kind-hearted individual anyone would ever meet. That, on its own, spoke legions about Harry himself. It was no doubt that everyone was drawn to Harry’s bright personality. It sang to them, something so bright in a world so full of hate and anger.

 

So, it was only natural for Logan to pass off his attentions and _affections_ towards Harry as being a result of the easy camaraderie that they both enjoyed in one another’s presence. However, as things have been the past few days – especially the dinner Harry had prepared just a couple of days before – it seemed that Logan would have to begin re-evaluating his current thinking regarding his intentions towards Harry.

 

Jean and her boytoy _Scott_ were both idiots thinking that he wouldn’t have overheard them whispering to one another during that dinner. Although Jean was vague at that moment, most likely wanting to have the conversation later on in private, it was enough of a crumb trail to reveal to Logan just what it was she hinted to; Logan’s _attraction_ toward _Harry_.

 

One of the things that Jean had mentioned was Logan’s ‘odd’ behaviour. At the time, he was confused by that since he didn’t recall doing anything ‘odd’ of the sort. Now, though, he remembered the sheer _domesticity_ of his actions that night. He actually didn’t even mind _helping_ out in the kitchen of all things! And not to mention that he’d kept his usual insults and crude remarks to a bare minimum whenever Harry would shoot him a warning look. For god’s sake, he was acting like some newlywed! But the question now was – why?

 

It took a fool not to immediately realize that it was all tantamount to Harry, Harry’s presence. The man seemed like a balm to Logan’s generally rude attitude and behaviour. He soothed Logan, easily putting his angers down to a simmer just by the simplest of things – and that was also evident from Harry’s easy distraction of Logan’s anger when they had accidently stumbled upon one another in the forest before dinner. It was something unheard of in so many years.

 

Now, Logan could tell that he enjoyed being around Harry, keeping him close. So did that mean for him that he was attracted to the other man? Well, to test out that theory, he tried to imagine them in ‘romantic’ situations; bringing Harry out to dinners, dates, being able to put his arm around Harry’s waist, kissing him, making Harry _his_. Well. _That_ certainly seemed to cause an interest to his body – to his surprise. He didn’t even think he would be so engrossed in the other man, let alone desiring him as such.

 

Logan was not someone who was very discriminative in nature. Only to those who shunned him and his own was he usually unkind towards. He cared little for the views of others and the world. The only thing that mattered to him was what his heart and mind showed him. Likewise, he wasn’t all that bothered by the fact that he could be attracted towards another man; and a _wizard_ at that.

 

So, now, what to do?  Without little need to question his desires, Logan had to decide on whether or not he intended to act on the allure that was Harry. Maybe for now he could continue things as they were? And see how they went. Who knew; maybe this feeling may fade with time. Only time would tell.

 

Thus, Logan’s decision was made. He would continue as they have and see how fate would play this turn of events out for him. Satisfied for now, he heaved himself off his bed and out to the door. He considered going to the Danger Room for a workout considering that his and Harry’s duel was soon approaching. Maybe he would stop by to have a look at how ‘his’ classes were faring on his way too.

 

* * *

 

Xavier sighed, mentally attempting to will away the tension and weariness weighing upon him. At the moment, he was rather disappointed with the news that he had just received. Hank had called not five minutes prior, letting the Professor know that the President had seemed rather hesitant in assisting them on their current crisis; regardless of the fact that Magneto’s current endeavour might affect humans as well.

 

There really was no reason to feel disappointed. The President had never truly shown any interest in mutant affairs, no matter how welcoming he may look now as he had taken in Hank. Still, as he had been told numerous times already, the Professor always insisted on viewing mankind with hope that they would turn around in their fallen ways and embrace the reality of those who were different.

 

Currently, he would have to let the others know about this revelation and inform them that they should not be hoping for any sort of assistance in this matter. He would also need to speak with Harry on his own part and also further discuss his plan on returning to Britain for a short trip. Xavier was reluctant in allowing Harry to leave at a time like this, but he knew that Harry would be able to gather the answers he sought more quickly and efficiently if he were there in person.

 

For now, it seemed that the day was soon over and he decided he would head out for a stroll around the Mansion to try and work up an appetite for dinner. It had been awhile in his mind since he was able to enjoy the company of the younger ones in the Mansion.

 

* * *

 

Jean was smiling to herself again, as she had been for the past few days. It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. A few days ago, right after that delicious dinner that Harry had cooked up for them, she had taken Scott aside to speak of what she had seen before his arrival.

 

                “What is it, Jean?” Scott had asked in the safety of a quiet room. “What were you smiling about earlier?”

 

Speaking in hushed, conspiring tones, she had said; “it was Logan!”

 

                “Logan?” Scott had repeated, confused. “What the hell do you mean? You were smiling because of _Logan_?” Then, jealousy and anger began to colour his tone. Jean had waved off his silly behaviour jovially, and shushed him.

 

                “How he was _acting_!” she clarified for his benefit. “Didn’t you see him?”

 

Scott shook his head to indicate the negative, adding on a bewildered “no?”

 

                “Oh please!” she had thrown up her hands. “Logan was so… tamed! I can’t believe you couldn’t see it! He was just so _behaved_ , I couldn’t believe my eyes!”

 

                “He was?” Scott said, his brows furrowed. He had tried to think back to the dinner and really didn’t see it. Logan had still been condescending towards him when they had been having the discussion about Mystique’s movements.

 

Then he moved on to focus to the other parts that _hadn’t_ concerned him; like whenever Logan had interceded in the conversation between Harry and Logan. Logan had been rather helpful instead of rude as usual. Sometimes, Logan and Harry would share a look that would amuse each other, like a silent secret, before coming back to the conversation once more.

 

“I don’t remember anything all that different…” he had said, “other than the fact that he and Harry seemed to have become unusually quick best friends.”

 

Jean had rolled her eyes. “Exactly!” she said, pointing to him as if he was the answer. “That’s it! Him and Harry! They were absolutely _adorable_!” Scott’s brows had shot up dubiously at the description. “They were sweethearts!” she had continued. “I still can’t believe that _Logan_ was just so… so domesticated.”

 

Scott’s brows had already gone up after ‘adorable’. “Domesticated,” he repeated sceptically. “Logan?” He was even more bewildered when Jean looked like she wanted to squeal in delight; practically shaking in her excitement.

 

                “Oh come on!” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice it _at all_? He hadn’t interrupted, or made any crude or insulting remarks all through dinner; and the way he was with Harry!” she paused to let out a dreamy sigh – one that made Scott decide he would never be able to understand the mind of a woman. “Just—the soft whispering between one another, the small nudges, and even stealing food from each other’s plates! It’s all like something out of the beginning of any romance novel!”

 

Now; _that_ statement had definitely made Scott sputter and choke in surprise. “ _Romance_?” Jean rolled her eyes and pinched him playfully.

 

                “Really, Scott,” she admonished, adopting a disappointed tone. “Have you even been listening this entire time? That’s exactly what I’m saying! Logan’s clearly _besotted_ with Harry!” once again, another happy sigh. “Oh Scott,” she continued softly. “This is just perfect; Logan needs someone like Harry.” She was silent for a moment more, then suddenly her face morphed from dreamy, to eureka!, then slowly changing into a Cheshire-cat grin.

 

                “Jean? Jean?” Scott looked on worriedly at her. “Oh no. Jean, whatever you’re thinking; it’s a bad idea.”

 

Heedless of his words, Jean clapped her hands together, beginning to rub them slowly – in a move reminiscent to that of a plotting villainess. “Ooh, this is going to be so _fun_!”

 

* * *

 

Harry had just exited the Professor’s office, having successfully endeavoured to ask the Professor for permission to link the Mansion’s living room fireplace to the international floo-network so as to allow easier communications for him and his friends.

 

Currently, he was striding towards said living room to immediately proceed and do as intended. On his way, he passed a few lingering students – to whom he each greeted pleasantly – and finally came to the large room. A few people were also in the room; doing varying things from reading, snacking, to taking a brief nap on a couch.

 

Silently, he made his way over the glowing fireplace, gently settling himself down onto the carpet before it. For the first time, he intended to use his wand. He probably wouldn’t need to, but he also did not want the spell going awry, so the safest bet was to use his wand to cast the appropriate spell. Taking a quick glance around the room once more, Harry sat himself crossed-legged.

 

He gave his wrist a quick flick and his holly wand slipped fluidly into his grasp. The feel of the familiar, smooth piece of wood was comforting; and he relished in it for a moment before looking determinedly at the fireplace. Considering the use of this spell, there really wasn’t much behind it. No fancy movements like the levitation spell’s ‘swish and flick’, or any required thoughts. Harry merely needed to hold his hand steady, focus on the task, and incant the words of the spell.

 

He did so in a swift and precise way and without further ado, it was done. The fire burst out in energy once, before reducing and returning to a soft but strong glow. To be honest, the spellwork was considered ‘specialised’, but he’d already made prior arrangements with the Department of Magical Transportation’s Floo Network Authority, in both the British and American Ministry of Magic.

 

Now, rummaging through his mokeskine pouch, he pulled out a small handful of Floo powder excitedly and leaned in towards the fire. Clearly but not loudly, he said, “Weasley Manor; Devon, England.” Tossing the powder in with ease, the fire billowed, and he lowered his head into the fire. Absentmindedly, he also held up a hand behind him to calm the few who were exclaiming in panic at his actions.

 

He coughed, never having liked fire-calling. “Stephen? Steve?” he called out. He heard some muffled sounds of movement before a familiar face grew closer.

 

                “Harry!” the man exclaimed, face lighting up in happiness. “It’s been a while, how are you doing?”

 

Harry chuckled. “Not that long,” he commented. “I’m fine, and you?”

 

                “Good, good. Oh! Right, Emi called me,” Stephen said, more serious this time. “She told me about what the favour you asked her of. And I also heard from the Ministry itself of course,” he added. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” he raised a brow, as if he was a parent awaiting their child’s confession.

 

Harry simply laughed, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright. It’s not too bad this time. Has the Ministry managed to gather what I asked for?”

 

Stephen cleared his throat as he rearranged himself into a more comfortable position before the fire. “Almost. You know how it is. Even with how much you’ve done up the Ministry with grandpa Ron and grandma Hermione, the records from way back are.. a mess, to say the least.”

 

Harry sighed, rolled his eyes and nodded in understanding. He looked up once more when Stephen continued.

 

                “Are you planning on coming back for a visit anytime soon?”

 

                “I’m not sure, Steve,” Harry answered truthfully. “I think it would be the best course of action if I did – if I was there to get everything in order myself. But I have things to sort out on this end too. I’m still just thinking about it for now.”

 

Stephen nodded in understanding. “Well, if you do, be sure to drop in for a visit yeah? The kids will want to see you,” he smiled.

 

                “I’ll do what I can,” said Harry. “Catch up with you later, alright? Give my regards to the kids and Anna.” They bid their goodbyes, and Harry lifted himself from the fire, giving his head a few good shakes. To his side, he heard someone clearing their throat in that annoying way that was only to get someone’s attention. He turned his head and was surprised to see Logan standing there.

 

                “The Professor wants you in his office,” he said vaguely, offering a hand to Harry who took it gratefully, heaving himself up.

 

                “Okay,” Harry agreed easily enough. “What about?” He had an inkling – what else was there to talk to him about? – but asked anyway.

 

                “He’s letting the others know and probably wants some input from you,” Logan shrugged. By ‘others’, Harry surmised that he probably meant the rest of the adults in the Mansion.

 

Harry nodded silently, walking leisurely towards the Professor’s office. He smiled softly when he watched their feet, noting that Logan was slowing his pace and shortening his steps to accommodate Harry’s own stride.


	16. Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to LittleMoonlightLover on FF for giving most of this a quick look-through (:

"Ah, Harry," the pleased voice of the Professor reached his ears not a second after his entrance into the large office. "Good to see that you could join us," he joked lightly.

 

Harry nodded at him in acknowledgement, a small smile gracing his lips, before his eyes skimmed over the room and its occupants. Seeing Logan turn towards a wall in his peripheral vision, he decided to follow suite and ended up leaning against the wall beside Logan – to the Professor's left.

 

Logan exchanged a lopsided smirk with the man beside him when Harry turned minutely to throw him a smile. As they were both already aware of the 'situation', they settled themselves in comfortably against the stretch of hard concrete. Both were only listening to the Professor's words as not much more of a background noise as he reiterated their recent concerns regarding Mystique and Magneto's movements.

 

Harry, whilst still managing to maintain a look of seriousness as if he were actually listening to the Professor's words, was actually attempting to formulate a way in which he could ask the Professor for leave to return to London. It was a rather absurd thought, really - considering the fact that he wasn't _really_ the Professor's responsibility or anything. Still, he thought that it would be the _polite_ and _courteous_ thing to do nonetheless. He didn't think it would sit very well for anyone if he were to just go and vanish again.

 

Also, he wondered idly about the possibility of bringing someone from the Mansion along as well - if not to reassure the Professor then to also have some form of proof for those back home that he'd not gone off just to become a hermit somewhere. The majority of his thoughts strayed to making swift and efficient plans on what he will need to do once he arrived there; so as to make the trip as short as possible, but still long enough to do all that was needed to be done and seen to.

 

Next to him, Logan, having just recently had his 'revelation', was ironically more than hyper-aware of the man by his side. As his attention repeatedly strayed to said man, it was no help whatsoever that his sharp senses were cataloguing new things about Harry that he'd never before needed to really take notice of.

 

Even from the corner of his eye, he caught himself admiring the easy, relaxed posture that Harry had adopted - his body was close to the wall; shoulders and head leaning against it. His arms were crossed in front of his torso for a lack of anything else to do with his hands. His feet were alternating between standing firm, shoulder-length apart, and crossed loosely at the ankles, weight supported by a single leg. Every time he shifted, his body would push off the wall before settling back against it once more. And each time he did so, he would return to leaning against the wall with his hips stuck out lazily.

 

Logan found himself naughtily trailing his gaze along the curved stance of Harry each time. He could smell the slightly distasteful scent of the fireplace in which he'd found Harry earlier - practically tasting the acrid ash on his tongue as the smell clung to Harry's clothing. Beneath it, however, was the surprisingly pleasant scent of nature and sweat, sweets and - oddly enough - milk. Logan's chest vibrated and rumbled as he silently chuckled to himself as a thought struck his mind; _milk and honey_ \- the promised lands.

 

Lastly, his fingers twitched with the urge to graze the faint buzzing that enveloped Harry. Logan had no doubts that it was Harry's _magic_ that seemed to be rolling off his form in soft waves. Soothing in presence, yet a clear warning of the power it hid beneath. Logan shuddered with the feeling of it. It brought forth from him the sense of excitement he often experienced when facing off a particularly formidable opponent.

 

Finally, it seemed that the Professor had finished his briefing - if the solemn faces around the room were anything to go by with. Xavier turned his head and with a smile, he beckoned Harry over to him. Harry conceded easily, moving to stand beside the Professor, before giving a few of his own words to the gathered group. He revealed his nature as a wizard to them breezily, smiling softly at the shocked gazes - even though they'd already had prior warning from the Professor - and continued on as if he'd merely paused to comment on intriguing weather patterns. Logan chuckled lowly from where he stood and earned himself some glares and looks of surprise at the fact that he _wasn't_ surprised by the news.

 

Having said his piece on what he had already planned, Harry immediately turned his attention to the Professor next. "Prof- _Charles_ ," he corrected shyly after receiving an unimpressed look from Xavier. Nodding for Harry to continue, pleased, Harry licked his dry lips before starting again. "I would like to ask if it was alright with you if I were to take a quick trip back to London?"

 

Xavier raised his brows, but not in a confused manner. Instead, he merely guessed "you wish to handle things over there yourself?" Harry nodded. Xavier leaned back against his wheelchair, weaving his fingers together across his lap contemplatively. "Well, I don't see why not," he began to say. "I don't expect Erik to be making his move anytime soon; especially considering the fact that he would never have anticipated us stumbling upon _this_ plan of his."

 

Xavier clearly meant that Erik must've assumed his plan infallible as what were the chances that Xavier would have had to come in contact with someone magical? Not to mention one that would reveal to him the existence of a magical community either.

 

Harry was nodded in agreement and continued, "I also hoped to bring someone with me. I thought that it might be good to have one of your own see for themselves just what they… what they might need to be prepared for."

 

Before Xavier could ask who Harry had in mind, the man had rushed on to add; "I understand that you've all got commitments here, and, um, I don't _have_ to bring anyone. It was just a suggestion really," he finished, mumbling. His eyes flickered upwards in surprise when his ears caught the soft laughter escaping the Professor's lips.

 

"Oh Harry," he said, shaking his head slightly in amusement. "I think that's a great idea. Do go ahead and ask anyone you want. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to accompany you."

 

"Oh, um," Harry was surprised at the easy acceptance from the Professor. "Alright. But I wouldn't want to make them feel obligated abo-"

 

"I'll go with ya," a painfully familiar voice caught their attention; both head turning to see Logan striding up to them with that damned smile on his face again - the one that warmed Harry from the inside out. Seeing that the Professor was not about to object anytime soon and that Harry seemed to be at a loss of words, he continued "I'm pretty interested to see for myself just why Mystique seems to be so interested in you guys," he said simply, obviously meaning the magical community as whole.

 

Just as Harry opened his mouth to say something, they both tensed up instinctively when a familiar blaring, ringing sound rang throughout the Mansion.

 

The Professor, unfazed, tilted his head up and noted, "ah. It looks like you will be getting a taste of it right now, Logan."

 

Logan's small quirk of the lips morphed into a positively savage grin as he turned to meet Harry's gaze head on. The two watched each other, neither backing down, before their chins were tilted up at the same time; a silent acquiescence from both parties to concede in a fair draw.

 

Harry leaned down and spoke softly into the Professor's ear, mumbling about plans and politely excusing himself, before he straightened his back and his green gaze caught Logan's once more. Silently, he nodded once at Logan before striding out of the office, brushing past Logan breezily.

 

* * *

 

Pulling his sleeve down over his forearm after having removed the wand holster that usually stayed firmly in place there, Harry leaned forward on his arms, locked over the closed trunk he'd pulled out from under his bed. He inhaled and exhaled with deep, slow breaths. _It was ridiculous_ , he thought, chuckling to himself. He was getting nervous as if it was his first duel against Malfoy all over again. He shook his head and smiled at the thought of that event so many years ago.

 

Heaving himself up, he gave a great sigh before setting his shoulders and making his way out into the open garden behind the Mansion. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the whole school had more or less shown up to watch his 'duel' with Logan. His eyes wandered over the area and locked onto Ororo's figure; her back facing him and Logan standing lazily by her side.

 

He strode up to her determinedly and as he neared, Logan turned to see him, his lips immediately curling in anticipation. Ororo noticed his attention was drawn elsewhere and turned as well, her face brightening at Harry's arrival.

 

Harry nodded at her in acknowledgement. "Ororo, Logan." He attempted to ignore the obvious look-over that Logan was giving him, suppressing a shudder at the feeling of Logan's intense gaze upon him.

 

Logan's gaze travelled up and down Harry's form, silently appreciating the wizard's change of clothes. It was nothing spectacular, really.

 

Harry had had to get used to fighting in normal, everyday clothing during the War so he'd found no reason why he would really need to change to more 'fancier' battle clothing. Of course, he still had to obey the Ministry's dress code when he was on official Auror business and such. Other than that, he enjoyed keeping it simple.

 

He wore loose black trousers tucked into plain combat boots to avoid the chance of the material snagging; distracting or slowing him down. A simple fitting long-sleeved shirt clung to his torso, the material not too tight but snug enough to not hinder his movements either. Logan eyed the slim form almost hungrily, enjoying the build of one so unlike him and yet formidable in its own right.

 

Where Logan was distinctively muscled, tanned from consistently harsh trainings and large in build, Harry was slim, muscles a faint ripple behind graceful limbs, a smaller target. It was clear that it was strength and power against speed and precision. Across from him, Logan was aware of Harry doing the same thing; an assessing yet appreciative gaze sized him up.

 

Harry had his eyebrows raised in a slightly incredulous way as he took in Logan's usual dressing. He donned a simple white tank top that hugged his well-defined chest, tucked into a familiar pair of worn-down jeans running down to cover modest black boots. Eyes drifting back up, Harry faced a smirking Logan, eyeing him with a knowing look that had him colouring regardless of the fact that he hadn't been looking at Logan like _that_.

 

Between them, Ororo cleared her throat, drawing the men's attention to the bemused woman. "Sometime today, gentlemen."

 

Logan rolled his eyes and moved to stand into the wide clearing before her, Harry following meekly behind him. The crowd of teachers, students and various others of the Mansion's inhabitants had formed a circle around them as if there had been a silent agreement amongst them regarding the boundaries that the duel would adopt. Both men turned to Ororo silently.

 

She watched both of them appraisingly, a small smile of her lips. "There is no time limit," she began, "but I _would_ like it if you could finish this in an hour. There are no restrictions; you may use anything and everything you want. However, there will be _no_ underhanded tricks tolerated." At this, she eyed the two critically until they both nodded solemnly once more. Satisfied, she turned to the Professor who had turned up beside her.

 

"What would you like the winning conditions to be, Professor?"

 

"You should let them decide," the Professor said indulgingly. Acquiescing, Ororo turned to the two.

 

"First blood?" Harry suggested uncertainly.

 

Logan huffed. "A good ol' fashioned duel should always be to the death," he said in convincingly in a serious tone. Harry would have been rather alarmed if not for the mischievous spark in Logan's eyes as they locked gazes. Understanding the crude joke at their 'immortality', he settled for rolling his eyes at the man.

 

"First to concede then," Harry said.

 

Seeing as Logan did not seem to have any objections, Ororo nodded, accepting the terms. "Alright. But _I_ will still have final say in case I think either of you two may be taking it too far," at this, she was pointedly looking at Logan more than Harry.

 

With a final nod, the two men stepped back and began retreating in opposite directions. Once satisfied, they turned and locked eyes with one another determinedly. To their side, they heard Ororo say "ready? Begin!"

 

The crowd sucked in their breath in anticipation for a few long seconds, before the students released it in disappointment. They frowned at the two men in the circle merely standing there, still watching one another. Scott and Jean had sidled up next to the Professor and Ororo, by the edge of the crowd.

 

"You sure about letting Logan do this, Professor?" he asked.

 

"Oh you have nothing to be worried about for Harry's sakes, Scott. As you can see, he seems to be holding himself perfectly fine," the Professor remarked airily. To his side, Ororo hummed in agreement. Even she could see the minor adjustments the two men were making each time the other moved. It was interesting to see up-close someone that could possibly match Logan's abilities.

 

With a grin, Logan dashed forward; clearing the distance between them in two seconds, coming up right in front of Harry, still with that manic grin on his face - a test. Unwavering and unsurprised, Harry shifted his weight onto one leg; twisting his upper body away from the lunge Logan made to his side.

 

Making use of Logan's propelled momentum, Harry twisted away from Logan in the opposite direction, his arms bent as he allowed his body to fluidly turn almost a full circle before thrusting his leg closest to Logan down and, adding in some of his own force, struck Logan a blow on the back on his neck.

 

As the force of the blow reverberated back to him, Harry leapt back, giving himself a small extra magical push backwards - not enough to cause suspicion. Remaining in a crouch, he watched as Logan stumbled once before his body fell like a doll into the grounds - paralysed from the blow to his spinal cord.

 

Harry knew that it wouldn't stop the man, however. 'In the name of research', he'd gathered more information about Logan's abilities over the days he'd prepared for the duel. He had heard alarming tales of Logan's healing capabilities. At first, he had dismissed some as exaggeration. But soon, he began to doubt and prepared himself for the possibility of it being true. He knew, however, that the man could not be killed in any way so far.

 

Sure enough, Logan's body twitched once before it stirred. Distantly, Harry heard the sounds of cheering, whistles, shouts of encouragement as the students were heartily expressing their enthusiasm in the fight.

 

Logan's body jerked in a show of the nerves repairing itself from the damage, before in a show of agility, he pulled himself upright and spun round to face Harry. Spine curled, arms bent at his side, Logan let loose a low growl – his face menacing, a cruel twist of his lips betraying his excitement at the challenge that Harry brought.

 

This time, they circled one another slowly; eyes locked on each other – maintaining a fine balance between them. Once more, Logan threw himself forward. But Harry was unfazed; knowing that Logan would not have simply repeated a mistake so easily.

 

Watching closely as Logan neared him, he took advantage of the tensing of Logan's muscles which alerted him to which direction Logan would strike from. Harry weaved, before his eyes widened in alarm as Logan changed his course in the last second; whirling around to attack Harry's side.

 

Bracing himself for an impact, Harry didn't just let himself take the blow. Instead, he daringly brought up his hands before him to curl around Logan's approaching arm. In uninterrupted split-seconds, he let his legs fold up from under him as he grasped Logan's arm – swinging under it.

 

Quick as a serpent, he struck Logan's kneecap with the heel of his foot; infusing a sharp burst of power into the blow that would shatter Logan's kneecap.

 

Unsteady from the motion of his own strike and yelping as his left leg crumpled under him, Logan fell into a crouch; forced to allow Harry to skid away from him once more.

 

Breathing steadily to keep himself under control, Harry decided to take a risk by flicking his wrist and casting a non-verbal stunner that distracted Logan long enough for him to send a well-aimed cutting curse at him. The amount of power he put into the curse made it faintly visible to the eye as it made a clean journey through Logan's unharmed thigh. This caused Logan to fall completely onto his knees; the vital tendons having been severed.

 

It took an even shorter time, though, before Logan was recovered and heading towards him quickly and warily. Harry began to bring his arms forward to once again make use of the man's strength against him before he caught the sight of metal claws emerging from between Logan's knuckles.

 

Alarmed and with not enough time to neither retreat nor safely defend from the attack, Harry hastily spun on his heel and disapparated to a considerable distance behind Logan.

 

Snarling in frustration, Logan whipped around in time to see Harry drop himself into a more defensive crouch – eyes assessing the new added element to the fight. He breathed in, eyes slipping closed slowly as he steeled himself for this part.

 

This time, they both dashed forward towards the other at the same time. Quickly eating up the distance between them, Harry threw his left hand palm faced-down before him, casting a light _bombarda_ that hit the ground; blasting off chunks of the soil and heaving up a considerable cloud of dust, providing him with a suitable cover as he ran straight into it. Using his magic to guide him, he narrowly avoided a strike from Logan - who was in turn using his own enhanced hearing and sense of smell to guide him.

 

Twisting his body nimbly, Harry fired a strong cutting hex in Logan's direction. The other man snarled and simply raised his hands to swipe at the incoming beam of light; effectively negating the spell as if waving away smoke. Surprised, Harry was only able to defend himself from Logan's advancing attack before disapparating once more outside the boundaries of the cloud of smoke.

Frowning at a random thought and wondering if it could really hold on someone like Logan, Harry extended an arm in preparation and waited until he caught a glimpse of Logan's figure emerging from the dust before casting a quick _petrificus totalus_.

 

Eyes widening in a comical show of surprise, Logan's arms and legs slammed close to his body and he tipped forwards face-first into the ground. There was a stunned silence following this as quite a few people turned to stare open-mouthed in Harry's direction.

 

Harry belatedly realized - and cursed silently - that he was already beginning to get slightly out of breath. He truly had been out of practice. Still, he wasn't _so_ bad that he would think it was so easy to defeat Logan. He kept himself in a defensive crouch, watching Logan's prone form with wary eyes whilst his mind worked to formulate some form of a strategy.

 

The tell-tale signs of twitching muscles first alerted Harry to Logan's stirrings and he quickly went into motion; dashing forward. In his mind's eye; he'd already doubted his ability to win this duel based on what he'd gathered so far regarding Logan's 'mutation' of not only the deadly claws, but also his advanced healing. In that case; the best he could hope for would be to end the duel as fast as possible.

 

Ducking low just as Logan was pulling himself up, Harry used his momentum to deliver a harsh kick to Logan's belly. The other man grunted as he rolled over once, before his own hands shot up to grasp tightly at the offending leg. He pulled his arms to his side, causing Harry to lose his balance and fall backwards with a yelp.

 

Hoping to not be caught unguarded, Harry rammed his elbow under Logan's chin, causing Logan's head to snap back with a painful _crack_ and they proceeded to roll on the ground, wrestling one another in a tangle of limbs.

 

Here, Logan had the advantage of his strength to forcefully gain the upper hand. Mindful of his strength, Logan struck a blow to the side of Harry's head that left the man reeling with bursts of white appearing in his vision.

 

With Harry temporarily stunned, Logan took the opening to roll himself above his opponent; manhandling Harry's limbs under him, trapping Harry's legs with his own knees digging painfully into Harry's thighs and Logan's arms pinning Harry's hands to the ground effectively.

 

By the time Harry had regained his wits, he found himself trapped under Logan's immovable body. He gave an effort to struggle out of his bonds, but failed miserably. His head was still throbbing and he wondered dully if he was bleeding from the wound.

 

During the scuffle, Logan's claws had managed a close swipe at Harry's belly - slicing easily through the fabric of his shirt and one of the claws had manage to carve a clean line by Harry's waist; blood seeping through and into the tattered parts of Harry's shirt.

 

His arms and legs had acquired most of the cuts and bruises, and the same would have gone for Logan had his healing capabilities already sealed up the larger wounds and knitted any damaged skin back together again.

 

Harry was already panting rather heavily whilst Logan's breaths were kept deep and even. Logan was staring down at Harry's form with the shadow of a triumphant smirk in his eyes, but still composed enough to not jump to conclusions.

 

"Give up?" he asked huskily. He watched as Harry stared into his eyes blankly, catching his breath, before Harry's eyes flashed once with a mischievous twinkle.

 

Forcing a burst of pure magic up into Logan, Harry managed to dislodge the man's hold over him for split second - long enough for him to pull himself into a different position.

 

Eyes' widening, Logan watched in bewilderment as one moment, Harry was _Harry_ , and the next there was a large, black form with _fucking sharp teeth_ lunging towards him.

 

Logan pulled back hastily, alarmed, but not fast enough as the thing sunk its teeth into his shoulder fiercely. He let out a sharp shout of pain even as his hands were sluggishly pulling themselves up to wrench the animal off of him.

There was another howl of pain from Logan as the beast dragged its own set of claws down his sides.

 

Finally managing to get a grasp on the large, furry body, Logan forcefully jerked it away from him and threw it in a random direction. He didn't bother to put his hands over his wounds - a habit he'd kicked long ago - as they were probably already healed, of not in the process of healing itself.

 

His eyes tracked the flight of the four-legged creature from where he'd thrown it but he did not have the chance to get a clear enough look at it before the black fur melted down and morphed into ripped clothing and a familiar form.

 

Pulling his feet under him, Harry managed to land safely onto his feet; head whipping up to eye Logan standing across from him. He quirked one corner of his mouth - traces of Logan's blood evident on them, highlighting them in a dangerous shade of red.

 

Logan experienced a moment of blankness in his mind at the sight of a dirty and rumpled Harry, still panting softly from the exertions of the fight; lips and fingertips covered in Logan's own blood. The picture sent a full-body shiver through Logan as he licked his own lips absentmindedly.

 

Shaking himself out of the stupor, Logan smiled darkly as he launched himself straight at Harry once more. However, instead of going for a strike, he pulled Harry's body along with him and they skidded along the ground - tussling again. Just as Logan pulled an arm back to deliver what would be the final blow, Harry's eyes locked with his own and the alluring green flashed eerily into a hauntingly dark emerald hue.

 

Suddenly, Logan found himself in another place entirely; if it could be called a place at all. It was more of an empty void, stark white plains for as far as his eyes could see. To his side, he caught a glimpse of a shadow by the corner of his eye. Turning, he froze as he stared up into a hooded figure.

 

The figure was almost floating lightly above the ground. It wore frayed robes of pure black. A threadbare hood obscured its face from Logan but he shuddered involuntarily at the way the figure invoked a pure sense of danger and malice.

 

It reached out, and slipping from under the cloak, skeletal bones for fingers were revealed.

 

Logan wanted to retreat, flinch back, anything; but he found himself glued to the spot. He was repulsed when the cold fingers caressed the side of his face, and then.. nothing.

 

"-ictor is Harry!"

 

He groaned and returned to the sounds of a beat of silence before cheers, hollers and surprised exclamations erupted from all around him. Logan squinted as he opened his eyes to the brightness of the day.

 

Taking a moment to focus himself, he found himself looking up at the form of Harry standing over him, lips curved in a smile that was holding itself back from getting into a full-blown grin even whilst his eyes shone with concern and growing relief.

 

"Welcome back," said Harry, extending a hand towards Logan who grasped it and heaved himself up gratefully.

 

He groaned again, his body feeling unusually sore. "Ugh. What _was_ -" he stopped mid-sentence when Harry's hand, still grasped in his own, squeezed suddenly. Turning to face the man, Logan raised a brow.

 

Harry's eyes - now thankfully back to its usual bright-green - turned away from Logan's and into the crowd, not really seeing anything. "Later," was all he offered in return.

 

Frowning, Logan knew better than to push a matter and simply shrugged, muttering an "alright". He also noticed that Harry had wiped off the blood on his fingers and lips onto his sleeve and shirt messily.

 

The Professor was approaching them, with Scott, Jean and Ororo trailing by his side. Xavier had a pleasantly pleased look on his face as he eyed the two of them. Skimming over the others, Logan saw that both Scott and Jean had still held traces of shock in their expressions; eyes darting between himself and Harry in what could almost be wonder.

 

Ororo was smiling widely at Harry, but she spared a glance at Logan to nod approvingly. He quirked a brow at her which only made a soft laugh escape her lips. "Congratulations, Harry!" she spoke up first, extending a polite hand.

 

Harry made to shake her hand in thanks before he stopped midway, then pulled his arm back sheepishly. "Ah, sorry. I'm a little dirty," he explained. Ororo simply smiled and nodded, dropping her own arm. Logan rolled his eyes, knowing that none of them here really cared that he and Harry were covered in dirt.

 

"Thank you," he added on courteously nonetheless.

 

"Indeed," Xavier nodded, agreeing with Ororo's statement. "That was very well-fought, Harry."

 

"It was incredible, Harry!" Jean piped in enthusiastically. Although her eyes seemed a little distracted, but neither men paid much attention to the fact that her gaze was drawn instead to their hands which were _still_ linked comfortably with one another - neither of them noticing it.

 

Harry smiled bashfully at the praise and exchanged words with the other four adults whilst Logan looked elsewhere, noticing the students that seemed almost bursting with the need to come up to him and Harry; chattering amongst themselves excitedly.

 

Then, he felt a tug on his hand and looked down to find himself surprisingly still holding onto Harry's hand. He didn't release it, however, and instead trailed his gaze up Harry's arm to look quizzically at the man.

 

"You should go wash up and pack," Harry suggested.

 

"Oh?" he said.

 

Harry nodded, glancing back once more at the Professor who smiled and nodded. "We're leaving tonight."

 

Logan huffed in amusement at Harry's plans having already been in motion and merely nodded before taking his leave. Behind him, he heard the others also excuse themselves and then heard Harry get swarmed by students.

 

He smiled inattentively at the fading sounds of Harry's reserved comments and reactions to further praise as Logan made his own way back into the Mansion to prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My school friend has begun writing out a Merlin fanfiction to get her through her post-Merlin depression state (which she still curses me for xD) and so I encourage any of you Merlin fans to check it out! :D [PS, although I'm a merthur fan, she's writing Mergana ;)]
> 
> Here's her simple blurb-idea that i shall steal off the draft sneakily.. :
> 
> Morgana was never one for listening to the rules. So when her father told her to stay put, what choice did she have but to follow him? She never really cared for destiny anyway. Betrayal, genocide, and against all odds, a happy ending. Morgana-centric (Merlin/Morgana).
> 
> It's still being drafted and given a beating-to by me but looks pretty good and should be out soon! Her FF username is "gone-phishing"


	17. Arrival (Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the following fiction other than the plot. All respective characters etc belong to their respective owners. :)

They stepped out of the cab, Harry pausing to pay the driver, and stood before a large block of houses side-by-side. Heaving both their shares of suitcases in his hands, Logan stood beside Harry who was looking up at the place fondly.

 

                “So, which one’s yours?” he asked in his gravelly voice. He was finally glad to be back on the ground after the long flight over and although he was eager to explore this side of Harry’s life, he was just as happy to take the rest of the day off and sleep first. Logan turned his head to look quizzically at Harry just in time to see a corner of the other man’s lips turn up, amused.

 

Harry tilted his head slightly, eyes locking with Logan with an expression resembling that of a child happily showing off something new, he casually lifted his wand-hand up and waved it before the buildings in front of them.

 

Eyes darting between Harry and the houses, confused, Logan narrowed his eyes in an effort to try and pick out whatever it was Harry had just done. Then, he was surprised to feel the ground begin quivering from under his feet. Alarmed, he glanced once at Harry, taking notice of his relaxed stance before turning his attention back to the rumbling buildings.

 

His jaw slackens when he witnesses another block reveal itself from between two others. Gaze alert, Logan notices for the first time that the buildings on either side had skipped the number twelve and as the new block settles itself comfortably between them, he lets out an amused bark of laughter at the _12_ that hangs by the door. Logan turns his head to grin at Harry, suitably impressed.

 

Harry himself turns to meet Logan’s gaze and smiles before leading the way up to the house. He casts a non-verbal _alohomora_ easily as he grips the doorknob. The protective wards in place recognize his magic and lets the spell pass - like a magical equivalent of a key.

 

They step in through the threshold and Logan feels the odd sensation of being given a security check by invisible hands briefly before the questing force disappears.

 

Before either of them could open their mouths to say something, two pops were heard and Logan had to quickly resist the instinct to leap back in defence as two tiny figures appeared seemingly out of thin air. His eyes were wide as the creatures seemed to bow lowly - the noses practically touching the ground in their deep bow - in the direction of Harry.

 

                “Welcome back Master Harry Potter!” the one that seems more energetic exclaims excitedly, literally bouncing in his place. Beside him, the other figure mutters out similar greetings in a more composed manner. However, his words were unfortunately drowned out by the first creature’s following words. “Dobby is glad to see Master Harry back home.”

 

Logan shifts to look at Harry as the other man smiles wider, his soft expression like that of a parent speaking to their child. Logan watches silently as Harry lowers himself onto a knee before the two creatures and Logan takes a few seconds to take in the odd-looking creatures as well.

 

                “Hello Dobby, Kreacher,” Harry greets amicably. Then, to the obvious surprise of the two smaller creatures, he leans forward to grasp each of them in a warm embrace. The younger - Dobby - was flushed in embarrassment at the act whilst the other - Kreacher - seemed scandalised at Harry’s actions.

 

Harry turned to look up at Logan with a quirk of his lips. “This is Logan. He’s a friend from America,” Harry introduced, turning slightly to look at the elves. “He’ll be staying here with us while I attend to some business we have in England.”

 

Turning back to catch Logan’s eye, Harry inclined his head towards the elves. “This is Dobby and Kreacher,” he pointed to each respectively as Logan nodded politely in return. “They’re house-elves. They live here with me.”

 

Logan’s brows had shot up incredulously at the word ‘house-elves’ but before he could get a word in on that matter, Dobby had cut in once more. “We are Master Harry’s house-elves! Master Harry is a good master,” the elf nodded solemnly, as if claiming himself a professional on the subject of masters.

 

Harry had a suspicion that the elf was comparing him to the Malfoys whom he had served previously. Instead of rebuffing Dobby’s claims, he merely smiled in response before heaving himself up once again. “I need to make some calls first,” he said to Logan. “You can go ahead and get settled in first. I’m sure Dobby will be happy to help you out.” He turned to glance at said elf who nodded and answered in an affirmative, already snapping his fingers - getting their luggage to slip out from Logan’s grasp and begin levitating themselves to their proper rooms.

 

Logan jerked in shock at that but could hardly get a word in before Harry began walking off in another direction and he was being ushered by the two house-elves upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Later, Logan’s ears picked up the soft knocking on his door and he heaves himself off where he had been lounging on the luxurious bed in his current room to answer the door. It must’ve been Harry though, considering the fact that since his arrival, the two ‘house-elves’ had been popping in and out of the room non-stop; bringing with them all kinds of items from beddings to afternoon snacks. It was ridiculous really. He’d thought _Charles_ had been living it up. He was quite surprised to see that Harry himself hadn’t turned out like one of the many stuck-up, entitled brats he’d come across now and then.

 

                “Hey Logan,” Harry greeted softly as Logan opened the door for him to enter. Harry took a moment to take in his unpacked state with an approving hum before rounding on him once more. “Will you be okay staying here on your own for a bit?”

 

Logan frowned in response to the question. “Why? Going somewhere?”

 

Harry nodded, gaze travelling distractedly around the room. “I… I would like to visit some of my friends,” he answered vaguely.

 

Thinking about it, Logan came to the conclusion that Harry probably meant their graves. He could understand the sentiment, of course, having been through it before himself. “No,” he said, earning a sharp glance from Harry whose face looked shocked at the fact that Logan actually had the _gall_ to forbid him from doing something _in his own home_.

 

Logan laughed at the expression before elaborating, “I’m going to die of boredom if you leave me in this place. Besides, I’m sure your friends would like to see just what bad company you’ve been keeping, won’t they?” He smirked at the thought.

 

Harry was surprised at his words and stood speechless for a few seconds before gathering his wits and allowing a small smile to touch his lips tenderly as his gaze dropped. A short laugh of his own escaped those lips at Logan’s jibe but he shook his head exasperatedly, “alright then. I’m just going to go get cleaned up first and I’ll meet you downstairs?”

 

Logan nodded and shrugged nonchalantly. They exchanged a few short words after, mostly idle chatter such as Logan’s opinion of England so far - which he’d bluntly answered to - before Harry excused himself.

 

* * *

 

The first stop had been to visit Harry’s parents. They’d walked in companionable silence, and Logan had held open the gates to the cemetery for him. When they’d neared, Harry had silently, almost unconsciously, brushed away the dust that had collected since his last visit.

 

Then he’d slowly lowered himself to his knees and placed the flowers by the stone markers. _Real_ flowers. Distantly, he heard Logan walk a little ways off to lean against the trunk of an old tree - probably to give Harry some private time first. For that, he was grateful.

 

After being satisfied with his arrangements of the flowers, Harry rearranged himself so that he was sitting more comfortably cross-legged before the two graves. With that, he began speaking.

 

It was simple chatter, really. His life, his thoughts and his feelings. Unloading them all always lifted a weight from Harry’s shoulders, even though he never expected a reply. He usually started off sombre, and quiet. But as time wore on, his hands would begin to join in, motioning animatedly along with his tales. His face would light up and his brightening eyes would gaze fondly upon the two names etched into stone. Sometimes, it felt like the names would shiver and ripple, giving him glimpses of his own parents’ reactions.

 

Later still, his babbles would slow, and he would enjoy short pauses and times of silence; letting his mind wander. Then, what seemed a millennia later, he turned around to glimpse at Logan’s figure - still leaning against the tree, arms crossed and eyes closed in an uncharacteristic show of peace.

 

As Harry gazed on, Logan’s eyes slid open as if sensing him, and their eyes locked. Slowly, Harry’s lips were pulled into an easy smile, silently beckoning the other man over.

 

Logan lingered a moment longer just to take in the serene, utterly relaxed position and expression on Harry before he pushed himself off the trunk and strode over to the man. When he neared, Harry had his arm lifted, reaching out towards him. Logan grasped it obligingly and gave a tug to heave the other man up to his feet.

 

Harry dusted off his trousers and flashed a grin in Logan’s direction before turning away. “This is Logan,” he said amicably, nudging Logan playfully. “He’s a… pretty cool mutant.” Harry was giving him secret smiles that made Logan’s own lips twitch in amusement unknowingly.

 

                “Yeah and your son here’s a cheater,” he spoke up, smirking at Harry’s indignant protest. “You’ve got quite the underhanded trickster here, Mr and Mrs Potters.” He studiously ignored Harry’s futile attempts at shoving and punching his side. Logan almost could’ve sworn he heard the wind carry distant sounds of amused laughter around them.

 

His grin softened, standing firm as he watched Harry attempt to make him lose his balance. “But he’s a good lad,” he said more seriously. This caused Harry to stop his ministrations and look up, brows raised in slight surprise. Logan turned his look onto the graves, “and we’ll look after him.” Deep brown eyes locked with clear emerald eyes, “I’ll look after him.”

 

Harry’s jaw slackened, momentarily stunned at Logan’s serious tone and expression, as well as his earnest honesty in the words he was saying. He felt awed and a little humbled by the acceptance being shown to him by Logan who was, by all standards, a normally aloof and detached person.

 

The tension around them thickened and the silence slowly stretched, waiting for one of them to make the next move. Harry was somewhat relieved and also amused when Logan shrugged and added, “after all, I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

 

Harry broke into a grin as he rolled his eyes, giving Logan one last, half-hearted, shove. After that, they slipped easily into a conversation. Harry and Logan spoke as if there really were four of them, despite the lack of response from two.

 

Harry was pleasantly surprised to note that Logan seemed utterly unaffected by the fact that he was speaking to two _graves_ and instead spoke rather naturally. Although in a way, he shouldn’t have been surprised since he already knew that not only was Logan ‘immortal’, like him, but he had lived for almost twice as long as he did!

 

Harry smiled to himself as he remembered that only a few others had managed the same nonchalance as he and Logan did when speaking to those no longer a part of the world of the living. Luna, for example, was one such person. Harry doubted that he would ever meet someone quite like her again.

 

* * *

 

They had, by far, spent the most time at his parents’ grave than the rest. But they eventually managed to visit everyone he wanted to visit before heading home in time for dinner. As usual, Dobby and Kreacher managed to whip up an absolutely delectable dinner that had them both stuffed full.

 

They spoke of everything and nothing over the dinner table and even Logan’s brows had raised up at the surprise treacle pudding dessert which he proceeded to enjoy so much that he’d even thanked the two house-elves; who, by that time, were beside themselves with pride.

 

                “Tomorrow won’t be much of a busy day either,” Harry had said as they discussed their plans for the few days in which they would be here. “I’ll show you around Diagon Alley,” he smiled at the small private joke to himself, “where you can do your job as a tourist while I visit Gringotts to check on some things.”

 

Logan had given up trying to remember and make sense of any of the odd names that had anything to do with the wizarding world since he’d first listened to Harry prattle on to his parents earlier that day. It was easier for him if he just nodded and figured the rest out later.

 

                “We’ll stop for lunch somewhere nice and then I’ll need to finish coordinating a meeting when I can meet up with everyone to discuss our business here,” Harry hummed thoughtfully, tapping the priceless dessert-spoon lightly on his chin. “Preferably here if I can make it happen… Anywhere but at the Ministry really,” he muttered mostly to himself.

 

                “Who do you have to meet up with while we’re here?” Logan asked, vaguely recalling that Harry had enlisted the help of quite a few people.

 

Logan turned from nodding at Dobby – who had begun to slowly clear away the plates – to look at Harry in time to see Harry scooping up the last of his pudding with a thoughtful expression on his face and a hint of his tongue poking out from between his lips. To his amusement, he realized later, when Harry popped the spoon into his mouth, that the tongue was less of an unconscious act and more of as anticipation for the dessert.

 

                “Mmm,” Harry tried to reply, the spoon still stuck in his mouth.

 

Logan quirked his lips and Harry rolled his eyes before taking his time in swallowing the dessert before pulling the spoon out and setting it down, nodding to Kreacher who took off with it and the rest of the plates.

 

                “Well, hopefully I’m going to try and see if I can organize a meeting where everyone can be there at the same time. That way I can get all the gathered information as well as cross it with what the others have. Also, it’d be good if I can get the others here to speculate as well because I’m sure they probably have theories of their own,” Harry explained as he set his elbows on the table and propped his chin in his hand lazily.

 

Logan nodded. “I see. Yes, it’ll be more efficient than having to run around between all the different groups if the number of different methods of contacts I’ve seen you employ the last few days were any indication,” he raised a slow brow at Harry who rolled his eyes in response but smiled nonetheless.

 

                “Yup. And after that, I’ll still need to spend at least one or two more days speaking with a few of my friends about the situation,” he paused, looking at Logan as if expecting a protest. Logan merely looked at him curiously and Harry smiled, continuing “I know that Xavier and the “X-Men” are really the ones that are used to having to deal with Lansherr’s actions, as I’ve heard from the Professor.

 

“But if he does intend to bring in Death Eaters and the like into his.. ‘Brotherhood’, I do believe that it would be best to at least have a few of my own people aware as a contingency plan.” Harry was still getting used to calling the professors of the Mansion ‘X-Men’; but then again, he couldn’t say anything about this given the sort of names _he’d_ had to live through.

 

Logan’s lips twitched in amusement at Harry’s choice of calling Magneto by his real name instead of his more commonly known mutant name. It made the man seem more.. human, in a way. And the experience remind him of Harry’s own ‘arch-nemesis’: Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. He snorted in derision at these men who thought themselves above others.

 

                “So is there anything you want me to do while I’m here, then?” Logan asked. “Or will I simply play the part of your personal bodyguard?” He had an amused smirk curling his lips, “or.. what was it? Your ‘knight in shining armour’.”

 

Harry huffed at Logan’s teasing. “Please,” he said, rising from his chair. “A knight in shining armour is a man who has never had his metal truly tested.” He turned to shoot  a smug look over his shoulder at Logan who looked surprised by his reply.  “Come on then. There’s one last place I’d like to show you before I head off to bed.”

 

Logan slowly rose from his seat and followed Harry curiously, wondering where he was being led to this time. His mind that was running away from him by providing him with various (highly unlikely) answers to this certainly wasn’t helping him either.

 

Reaching the end of the corridor, Harry turned to the side and placed a hand on the wall. Logan frowned, watching as Harry seemed to be simply running his hands over the weathered walls. Then, Harry found what he was looking for and pushed lightly, causing the wall to crinkle in its design like a crease on paper before an entire section of the wall before them shuddered and the old, dirty design dissolved into a plain, slightly yellowed wall.

 

Logan watched with clear interest as Harry stepped back and his eyes traced the indiscernible, shallow markings on the wall. Inhaling sharply, Logan’s eyes widened when Harry opened his mouth and a litany of hissing sibilance and Logan’s brows went up, not sure how he should be reacting to this.

 

Hardly three seconds later, though, the wall seemed to twist and shift before revealing an opening through which Harry stepped through, Logan trailing in after him. “Ta dah,” Harry said with a simple flourish, presenting Logan with an... empty room. Logan turned to raise a questioning brow at Harry who smiled.

 

                “This is a sparring room I created,” he said, pivoting slowly on the spot to look around. “You could say it’s my very own Danger Room.”

 

                “Inside your _house_?” asked Logan incredulously.

 

Harry shrugged. “What? Isn’t the Danger Room also in the Mansion? Anyway,” he waved a hand dismissively, “the room is heavily protected both inside and out. So even with your powers, it should stay standing.” Harry’s lips pulled into a low smile as Logan seemed to trust his judgement enough to at least give the room another once-over.

 

“Usually when I’m down here I conjure up some moving targets and what-not,” he continued. “But if you decide to come here on your own, there’s some equipment behind those walls,” he nodded to a corner of the room, “or I could probably set something up for you too.”

 

                “Alright,” Logan began to saw slowly, coming to face Harry once more. “But how exactly do you propose I get _in_ here in the first place?” He was thinking about the jibberish language that Harry had spoken earlier in order to get in.

 

Harry smiled. “Don’t worry. All you need to do is remember which wall to get in, and you can let the house itself take care of the rest.” And with that cryptic response, Harry smiled, excused himself, and went off to retire; leaving a very confused and somewhat suspicious Logan in his wake.


	18. Gringotts

As they strode down Diagon Alley, Harry kept his head down - hoodie up - and positioned himself so that he was angled toward Logan, using him as a sort of shield. It wasn’t too obvious, but he still had to be wary about people recognising him in this time. And whilst the war may have been over for close to a century, the questions he would have to face about him simply being _alive_ would be too much trouble than he’d rather face.

 

Belatedly, he hoped that Logan didn’t get the impression that he was a weirdo or introvert who shunned the company of people with his actions. Occasionally adjusting his hood, his eyes stayed steadily on Gringotts. Every now and then, even he couldn’t resist taking a quick peek at the stores around him; noting small differences here and there from his last visit.

 

By his side, Logan was looking his fill. He, being someone who has lived quite a long time and seen many things, had not seemed _too_ surprised when Harry had first welcomed him to Diagon Alley. He had smiled once at Harry who seemed eager to show him his world, and his brows had gone up incredulously when he took not only the cramped and bustling place, but at the kind of things the people were _wearing_. At that, he had let out an amused laugh, shaking his head at the fact that the one thing humans managed to get right about witches and wizards was their choice in clothing. Harry had smiled beguilingly and led the way in.

 

Now, he glanced to his side to see Harry practically huddling himself towards Logan and Logan knew immediately what he was doing - laying low. Knowing this wasn’t the time or place to ask questions, Logan kept an alert eye as he followed Harry through the street. Occasionally, they would bump into each other, and Logan could practically feel Harry trying to keep himself from flinching and turning away from any person that glanced in their direction.

 

Gazing down at Harry’s hooded head, Logan frowned in thought. Then, with a dramatically put-upon sigh, he raised an arm and slid it across Harry’s shoulders. He felt Harry flinch in surprise before turning his head to look at Logan questioningly. Logan merely raised a brow and shot him his trademark smirk, watching as Harry huffed in amusement before turning his eyes back in front of him.

 

Unconscious of his actions, Harry’s hand closest to Logan rose up to grasp slightly at the hem of Logan’s shirt, as if to ensure that they do not get separated. Reflexively, Logan’s arm in turn pulled Harry closer to himself. The action seemed so familiar and comfortable to both men; leaving Logan staring, slightly confused, and Harry silent and pleasantly surprised.

* * *

Harry liked the goblins. Putting aside the fact that they were quite distrusting and sometimes – more often than that really – unfriendly, he appreciated the fact that they didn’t give a whit about who you were. Striding into the majestic gold building, many of the goblin tellers didn’t even look up as he walked past them.

 

He could hear the whispers about them both was somewhat assured to know that it wasn’t really about who _he_ was, but more of the fact that Logan still had an arm wrapped across his shoulders. The people were probably more interested in the familiarity of the two men instead of really noticing just who those men were. He kept his face tilted away from notice as he led Logan towards a free teller.

 

Stopping before the large podium-like counter, Harry cleared his throat softly before speaking. “Good morning. I would like to speak with Gremlic please.” The creature before him slid its piercing eyes onto Harry slowly, a distasteful expression on its face and Harry had a thought popping into his head that the Goblin’s first words would be to question if it _was_ a ‘good morning’. He pursed his lips a little amusedly, waiting for the creature to respond.

 

                “Right,” the goblin drawled in a low, gravelly tone, setting down his quill and peering down his nose at Harry. He scrutinized Harry for a moment, as if holding a staring competition, before his lips turned and he said, “well. Follow me then.”

 

Harry’s lips upturned into a polite small as he muttered a soft thank-you, giving Logan’s jacket a tug to get him to follow. They went after the small Goblin who disappeared behind a large door, after telling the two to wait outside. After a brief moment, the goblin once more appeared.

 

                “Go on then,” he said, smiling a feral smile that was rather intimidating as it showed off yellowed, sharp rows of teeth. Nodding once at the pair, the goblin sidled off back to his counter. Harry glanced at Logan in time to see the other man watching the creature in amusement before turning to Harry with a questioning brow raised.

 

Harry waved him over and they entered the room. They stepped into a dimly-lit room, a large ornate wooden table took up the majority of the room. Along the walls were rows and rows of books, files and the like; meticulously sorted. Behind the desk sat another goblin; old even for its kind. Harry waited patiently until the click of the door shutting caused the goblin to look up at his visitors.

 

                “Ah, Lord Potter,” his gravelly voice drawled as he raised a hand to slide his half-moon glasses off the crooked ridge of his nose. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

 

Harry inclined his head, “Indeed, Master Gremlic, far too long.”

 

                “Well, enough with the small talk. How may I be of service to you, Lord Potter?” He motioned for them to take a seat on the two armchairs situated opposite him.

 

Smiling and giving a nod in thanks, Harry motioned for Logan to follow him and sat down. “There are a few things,” he began, knowing that the goblin would be paying his utmost attention and hardly even needed to note things down. “While I’m here, I would like to visit my vaults and perhaps make some more… _transfers_ ,” at the word, Gremlic nodded in understanding just what he meant.

 

“I also need access to the Potter family vault as I may have need of some books and such. Aside from that, I would like it if you could set up a liaison with someone you trust in America, as I intend to stay there for an unforeseeable time in the future. Whatever you can do to make things a little smoother, as I’d rather not have to make my way here every time I have business with you.”

 

                “Of course, I will do what is needed. I shall inform you when everything is in place and also how to get into contact with my associate there. Shall I look into making your papers for the American Ministry as well? If it pleases you, I have other contacts there which can extend their help if ever you require it.”

 

Harry nodded, “yes that would be excellent, thank you, Gremlic.”

 

                “It is my pleasure, Lord Potter. Now, is there any other business you need or shall I send for someone to escort you to your vaults?”

 

Leaning forward slightly, Harry nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Yes, there is one last thing. If possible, I would appreciate it if you could use your… considerable sources to help me gather some information. However, if you would rather not get involved in my affairs, I will completely understand.”

 

Gremlic’s expression grew grim as he reclined back on his chair, his fingers interlocking. “For you, Lord Potter, I will see what I can do. Tell me what it is you need.”

* * *

Logan’s brows were raised in what was probably the most emotion his face would ever portray in the last century. “Someone’s been a good little boy, saving up his money.”

 

Harry simply sent a smirking look over his shoulder at Logan as he strode into the vault that seemed to be almost _bursting_ with gold.

 

                “Why didn’t you just give your money to that legion of relatives you managed to amass?” He looked over to see various emotions flash through Harry’s expressive eyes; a frown, irritation, guilt, then settling on a somewhat conceding smile.

 

                “Not for a lack of trying. I usually do that, but then most of them end up becoming some sort of upstanding business-person, Ministry workers or whatnot and then they seem to all get this idea where they need to pay me back _with interest_ as if they’re paying for my eternal pension or something.”

 

Logan barked out a laugh at Harry’s indignant expression coupled with a petulant pout on his lips. He had then proceeded to pull out his small drawstring pouch that seemed to be made out of leather and kneeled down beside a moderately-sized pile.

 

Swiftly, he dragged the open-mouthed pouch upwards at the edge of the pile and what must’ve been a couple of _thousand_ shining coins disappeared into said pouch.

 

Surprised but silent, Logan watched in fond amusement as Harry seemed to shake the bag as if coercing a pile of items into the corner of it. Then, they’d left and ended up spending the next three hours in the ‘Potter family vaults’ where they perused the many artefacts, heirlooms and books stashed inside with Harry nicking a few odd things here and there, tucking them into a sling-pack he had produced from out of nowhere.

* * *

As it was just about lunch-time, Harry had taken the opportunity to brightly recommend that they stop to eat at a nearby café that he was familiar with. Logan had shrugged and expressed his compliance easily, liking this relaxed version of Harry he saw, when he was back in a familiar setting.

 

Harry had walked straight up to the counter and caught the attention of the cashier. They exchanged a few words before the young man nodded and left his post to show them to a table that was not far off but had excellent view of the bustling streets.

 

It was an open-air café save for their kitchens and cashier in front of it. There were inconspicuous runes written around the boundary of the café to ensure that the noise outside was toned down into a more gentle murmur. It also did other things such as keep their customers impervious to any ill weather and moderate the overall temperature.

 

The young man pulled out their seats and excused himself with a professional smile and bow.

 

Logan was about to open his mouth to point out that the man had forgotten to ask for their drink orders or even give them a menu before his gaze fixed on a figure that had literally burst out of the kitchen doors and made her way over in their direction as quickly as she could in heels.

 

                “Ah, Harry! It’s been so long!” She, thankfully, slowed down and gently lowered herself slightly in order to embrace him tightly.

 

                “You look well, Elena,” he smiled, ducking his head somewhat at the curious glances from patrons around them. There had been a wave of children named after him after the war but not many as it was like naming your child ‘Merlin’; considered too ridiculous an image to live up to. He saw Elena motioning for the man from earlier forwards.

 

                “This is my son, Marcus.”

 

Said boy smiled a little shyly but raised a firm hand nonetheless to greet Harry with the proper respect. Although the boy must’ve been in his fifth year at least, Harry had never met him. Probably because in the last few decades he had focused on staying close to his friends at the end.

 

After Marcus had exchanged a few pleasantries with Harry, he sidled away to continue his work. Elena lingered to give them recommendations for lunch whilst slyly glancing over at Harry’s companion. They had been introduced, and she had smiled at the gruff man, quite unfazed.

 

She had asked with a stern, motherly face whether he was looking after Harry alright in the States at which Harry himself had complained and Logan had grinned and proceeded to make up outlandish stories about Harry’s ‘misbehaviours’ in the school.

 

While waiting for the food, Harry enjoyed easy banter with Logan. He also gave the other man a little insight on what was roughly on the agenda for their stay. They were meeting with his relatives and contacts tomorrow in his home. He would also need to connect the house’s fireplace to the Mansion’s so that the Professor and hopefully Agent Coulson could be included as well.

 

Elena was putting the final touches on her masterpiece dishes in the kitchen as a gust of wind travelled along the Alley, which was not much of a surprise as it sometimes did that and the layout of the Alley itself gave it an ever-present airiness.

 

Some clothing flapped around them and Harry distractedly raised a hand to tuck his hair aside as it was ruffled by the wind. A middle-aged man was holding onto his belongings as he passed by, eyes looking around here and there just as he seemed to glance at the café. His eyes widened before squinting and he silently made his way over to a table in his sights.

 

                “Hello excuse me, are you… Merlin’s beard!” The man exclaimed, jumping back in surprise, muscle-memory immediately scrabbling into his bags. Around them, people turned at the commotion. “You’re Harry Potter! _The_ Harry Potter! Oh, oh, Mister Potter, it is an _honour_ to meet you,” he gushed, crowding close to the table at which Harry sat frozen and Logan was looking on confused, a steadily-growing frown present.

 

Not-so-hushed whispers erupted around them and Harry’s chin dropped as he pursed his lips and refused to speak. As if his mere _name_ were a magnet, the sound of popping was heard  all around them, like rolling up a piece of bubble-wrap. Within a minute, the place was full of shouts of “Mister Potter!”, “Lord Potter!” or even “Harry! Harry Potter!”

 

Elena had exited the kitchen with the food in tow just to come facing a chaotic scene. People seemed to be appariting in from all directions - reporters, if their cameras and floating notepads were anything to go by. Her eyes immediately zoned in on Harry’s table and saw Harry still sitting with his head slightly bowed, a hand clenched atop his thigh under the table. His ‘companion’ seemed to be moments away from snapping at the crowd slowly creeping closer and closer.

 

Anger simmered dangerously within her as she roughly shoved the plates of food off at another waiter and turned back into the kitchen, heading for her private office at the back. Meanwhile, the two still firmly planted in their seats were experiencing an onslaught of blinding flashes and a tidal wave of questions.

 

                “Mister Potter! Where have you been since the death of Ginevra Potter, your old flame?”

 

                “Harry, Harry! Hey! There have been rumours that you are endorsing the Ministry’s intelligence regarding past Death Eater movements. What do you have to say about this?”

 

                “Lord Potter! Is it true that one of your great-grandnieces has been apprehended for alleged attempts to access your vaults without authorization?”

 

                “When will you plan on settling down? We at Witch Weekly have received a lengthy list of suitable women who would gladly take on the role!”

 

                “Is the rumours about your involvement with unsightly _muggles_ true?”

 

                “Who is the man next to you? Are you involved with this man? What family does he hail from?”

 

At the increasing insistence and bombarding questions regarding Logan’s - clearly unwanted - presence, fuelled by the fact that one reporter seemed to be stepping in too close to them and Harry’s unnatural silence, Logan snapped his jaws at them threateningly; thoroughly annoyed.

 

The crowd as one seemed to take a momentary step back before the man closest to them stepped forward even more enthusiastically and his quik-notes quill was practically in Harry’s face as he demanded “Mister Potter! What reason do you have with continuously involving yourself with filthy half-bloods? We have heard your affiliation with the deceased Remus Lupin, and his son Theodore Lupin, both known werewolves.”

 

                “How dare you! They are my _family_ ,” Harry burst out, whipping blazing green eyes at the stunned reporter. “All of your behaviours are unseemly! I have already told you to leave me out of all of this. I have nothing to do with the Wizarding World anymore other than my family and friends.”

 

Using the opportunity of the deafening silence that had descended around them, Harry reached across the table and grasped Logan’s hand tightly, tugging at him.

 

Logan looked up in time to see Harry lower his head and speak so softly that only Logan would be able to hear, “I should’ve known this was going to be a bad idea. I’m sorry. We can… we can have lunch at home.”

 

Frowning, Logan angled his head to catch Harry’s averted eyes. They weren’t angry or irritated anymore, simply… resigned. Logan had known that Harry had been eager to get out and visit this ‘diagonally’ place and he felt resentment for these fuckers who were getting in the way of that.

 

Twisting his wrist so that his own fingers grasped Harry’s wrist, Logan tugged the half-standing man to his side and his other hand reached out to wrap comfortingly around the nape of Harry’s neck and pulled him in enough to tuck the raven-haired head under his chin in a protective embrace.

 

Surprised, Harry’s free hand came out to clutch at Logan’s shirt as he stumbled and landed up being enveloped by Logan’s warmth around him. He was speechless at the sudden move but he tilted his head to peek up at Logan’s face when he felt the man’s chest rumbling in a growl.

 

He couldn’t tear his face away at the menacing picture Logan was making; snarling in a completely animalistic manner at the army of journalists around them who, after the first vicious snarl had ripped itself out of Logan’s throat, had stepped back in surprise and fear.

 

Harry didn’t register Elena emerging from the back office with a phone in one hand, a mirror shard in the other and remnants of soot on her blouse. Her demands for the unwelcome individuals to exit her premises or they would be escorted out was but a hollow sound as if Harry heard it from underwater.

 

As if to support this threat, another wave of pops were heard around her, closer to their table than the reporter’s had been. This unconsciously caused Harry to stiffen warily but Logan’s hand on his neck had pulled him in further and he relaxed in response.

 

Logan watched with a suspicious gaze as another group of ‘wizards’ appeared out of nowhere, surrounding Elena as if her cavalry had arrived. Some were in business suits, some in robes, others in more casual wear. They all looked immediately to Elena who glanced at Harry and Logan in response.

 

Then, Logan felt those eyes land on them and quite a few widened in surprise and possibly amusement as a few lips had quirked as if seeing Logan wrapped around Harry as if shielding the other man from an attack was a hilarious notion. Logan’s own eyes looked down to catch Harry’s inquisitive gaze. He didn’t say anything, however, as his attention was averted back onto the new group.

 

                “I will say this one more time. _Leave_ the premises or you shall be forcibly escorted out. If you leave now, you will not be permanently blacklisted from neither my café nor _any_ business associated with my family. We would recommend that you leave Harry alone, or we will not be held responsible for any retaliation on our parts if you choose to aggravate him further.”

 

As one, the line of witches and wizards backing Elena raised their wands; their unity like a well-oiled machine. After a moment’s hesitance, a number of reporters turned and left hesitantly, grumbling under their breaths. When one woman made to step forward to ask _them_ a question, two red-headed individuals aimed their wands at her and raised their brows - _daring_ her to make a move. The group continued to diligently watch the news-people leave slowly.

 

Harry, ignorant of these proceedings, had been having a small-epiphany whilst he had been almost _lulled_ by the steady beat of Logan’s heart under his fingers. Biting his lip but making his decision with Gryffindor-courage, Harry released the hand in Logan’s shirt and wound it around Logan’s neck, mirroring Logan. Extracting himself slowly, Harry waited for Logan to look at him curiously once more before his eyes dropped to Logan’s lips in a clear question.

 

Logan’s eyes widened and at this closeness, Harry could feel the other man’s heartbeat jump. Hoping that it was a positive sign, Harry leaned in and sealed their lips together in a chaste kiss. He relaxed and his eyelids drifted shut as he shivered at the pleasurable contact.

 

Since most of the unwanted visitors had made their way out by this time, Elena and a few of the group glanced over at Logan and Harry and they were met with a sight that resulted in various pleased reactions; fond smiles, two or three wide grins and clasped hands all around - a silent celebration before they silently apparated away once more.

 

Pulling apart, Harry drew in a welcoming breath before meeting Logan’s gaze, unsure. Warmth blossomed in his chest and his own heart jumped at Logan’s reaction.

 

Logan licked his lips slowly, making a point out of it before he smiled a real smile and suggested “let’s have that lunch you promised me.” He watched warmly as Harry brightened up considerably and turned to speak to Elena before retaking his seat, their fingers interlocked the entire time.


	19. Closer

Harry had apparated them both back to Grimmauld Place after lingering in the café simply to enjoy being outside and have dessert. Once home, Harry had relinquished the bag he carried that held the items he’d withdrawn from the Potter family vaults and handed it off to the elves to put away.

 

Logan had stood idly while Harry reopened the house floo network and cast the usual spells to ensure connection only to other networks he knew.

 

After he’d stood back up he turned to Logan, “well. We have some time to kill for the rest of today. I don’t have anything else planned. Is there anything you’d like to go? Places you want to see?”

 

Shrugging and answering in a non-committal grunt, Logan turned his head to look around for a moment before suggesting, “spar?” He turned an inquisitive look at Harry whose eyes crinkled in amusement and nodded obligingly.

 

* * *

 

 

With a raise of his fingers, the dummies in the room straightened and came to life at the command of their puppeteer. His other hand ran across the sleek stone walls, the familiar touch awakening the barriers and also revealing compartments filled with all sorts of equipment and weapons.

 

He fingered a slim dagger, its edge curved and sharp. Harry’s finger trailed down its spine before picking up between his thumb and forefinger. He was contemplative for a moment before abruptly twisting his body and hurling the dagger in Logan’s direction.

 

Taking in the sight before him, Logan’s senses prickled at him and his claws instinctively making an appearance as he drew his arm up towards him in a defensive move. It collided with something metallic which was sliced cleanly into four sections.

 

Looking from the fallen pieces that had once made up a fine dagger to the man standing across him. Logan’s brows went up in a silent question. He was also enjoying the chance to take in the smile on Harry’s face as well as the mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

Harry’s expression turned contemplative as he blindly reached back for another dagger - which caused Logan’s eyes to narrow in suspicion - and he held it flimsily between his hands. Harry’s fingers passed over the blade and it shimmered for a moment before settling. Slowly, he raised the blade and threw it towards Logan once more.

 

Swiping at it like a fly, the dagger _wasn’t_ cut through by his claws but instead was flung away from him, hitting the wall opposite Harry with a _clang_. “Huh”, he said at this new development. Then, he swerved his body to face Harry and grinned menacingly. Logan proceeded to saunter towards Harry much like a predator cornering its’ prey.

 

Eyes widening and thinking to himself that he should probably be worried if the smile on Logan’s face was anything to go by, Harry cast a stunner easily which only succeeded in dazing Logan for a few scant seconds before the grin on his face grew and his canines were introduced in full display.

 

                “ _Impedimenta_ ,” Harry casted verbally, putting a formidable amount of power behind the spell. He could see Logan slow down considerably and glance at his arms and legs that were straining to move forward. The muscles in his entire body were showing as he pushed himself against the invisible ropes pulling him back.

 

Harry moved away from the wall he was near, it was not a good place to be cornered in. “ _Tarantallegra_ ,” he said next, biting his lip to keep from smiling. It failed, however, as he burst out laughing in the next moment when Logan let out an indignant yelp as his body began do dance against his will. Harry doubled-over and was soon wiping tears out of his eyes at the unimaginable scene before him. “ _Finite incantatum_.”

 

Logan was stunned for a split second after being released before he launched himself full-force towards Harry.

 

                “ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry incanted from habit his spell of choice. He hadn’t had enough time to react to anything except for instinct as Logan came at him and now his heart thudded in his chest when the spell had no effect because there was nothing _to_ disarm, and it was easily deflected by Logan’s reflective claws.

 

The next moment, Harry was slammed into the wall forcefully and he let out a grunt of pain upon the impact. He immediately struggled to move and escape but found his body caged by Logan’s larger bulk. Opening his eyes from where they had scrunched closed and preparing to say something, he found that Logan had also slapped one of his palms over Harry’s mouth, effectively silencing him.

 

Harry frowned before his brow ticked in amusement as he simply cast a non-verbal _flipendo_ , which knocked Logan back none-too-gently. He followed this with a _petrificus totalus_ and watched amusedly as Logan straightened and fell backwards.

 

Before he could completely crash into the floor, Logan shook himself out of the paralysis as his body regained its function thanks to his healing and he was up once more.  Making sure to keep his movements erratic and unpredictable so as to not get caught by any spells, he soon caught up to Harry and grabbed him by the wrist, spinning Harry and pinning their joined hands to the wall so that Harry faced the wall.

 

Catching sight of Harry about to open his mouth, Logan flexed his own jaw and then proceeded to fit his teeth over the side of Harry’s neck in warning, his free hand coming around the other side too so that his claws just touched the opposite edge of Harry’s neck.

 

Logan heard the hitch in Harry’s breath as he realized he was essentially in checkmate. Logan daringly darted his tongue out to steal a taste from Harry’s neck and his chest rumbled in response to the shiver that wracked through Harry.

 

Reluctantly pulling away, Logan relaxed his stance and tugged lightly so that Harry turned around and faced him before he asked, “you still owe me an explanation from our duel.”

 

Harry huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes at Logan’s sudden question. “You want to know what you saw, at the end of the duel?” He simply got a raised brow in response, waiting for him to continue, which he did. “It was Death.”

 

The other brow went up. “Death,” Logan repeated dumbly.

 

                “Yes,” Harry nodded in affirmation once more. “As the Master of Death, I can choose to allow you to see Death, as it was, but only a glimpse; or else you may be at risk of actually dying. Death is an omnipresent being,” Harry continued on before Logan could say anything else.

 

“It is never in one place at any one time. How would she be able to manage all the souls that seem to die by the minute if she did? No, if I request her presence, and she chooses to grace me with it,” he smiled a little to himself, “she will make an appearance. Whatever you felt was very real, though. Although mostly it is a manifestation of your own preconceptions of Death and also your initial reaction to seeing her figure.”

 

Harry shook his head, “most people cannot overcome that in order to see her for who she truly is. It is human nature to fear Death, and it clouds our perceptions in turn.”

 

                “Death is a her?” Logan asked, not really _that_ surprised; he’d not lived all these years in normalcy after all. “So you actually can command Death? I had thought that the title was mostly just that, along with the other… perks,” he said with a wry twist of his lips.

 

                “Yes, her name is Hel - with a single L - and she actually quite an intelligent being. Rather young in appearance too.” Harry thought for a moment before answering again, “Well I’m not too sure myself actually. I’ve never chosen to interfere with Death’s responsibilities. I don’t think anyone should have the power to decide whether another should live or die. Even if it is sad for me to see those I love go, I would rather let them move on to the… ‘next great adventure’ than stay here with boring ol’ me.”

 

Harry shrugged. “I simply asked her if she’d like to tease you for a moment to give me an advantage, and she acquiesced.” Smiling, he thought of Hel fondly from the scant times he’d met her. “She is as she should be, albeit a little lonely, but I guess it comes with the job.”

 

Logan grunted gruffly, “well, with companions like the nine horses of the apocalypse, I can understand why she’d like new friends.” He smirked as his comment elicited another laugh and eye-roll from Harry. “But you know,” he trailed off, catching Harry’s eyes. He admired the stunning emerald hue of the other man’s gaze as Logan’s demeanour turned from brusque to wicked, licking his lips and adopting a deeper voice, “don’t think that your little teaser earlier is enough to satisfy me.”

 

Eyes widening, Harry was about to speak but was cut off when Logan’s lips covered his own and his hot tongue took the opportunity to lick into Harry’s mouth. Letting out a - admittedly high pitched - squeak in surprise, Harry could only stand frozen for a moment, fingers gripping Logan’s wrists, before his eyes slid shut and he slowly reciprocated, pushing himself forwards.

 

As the kiss deepened, Harry’s hands curled at the base of Logan’s neck, gripping the short hairs there as another wound further up and carded through Logan’s thick hair. Their bodies were pressed up against each other with Harry’s caged between Logan and the wall. Logan’s arms wrapped firmly around the curve of Harry’s back, pulling the other man’s body even closer as they tried to fuse themselves together.

 

 Too soon, Harry pulled away with a gasp as he gratefully drew in air. He bent his head so that his forehead rested on Logan’s left shoulder as he panted softly, trying to calm his breathing and beating heart. His hands had loosened their grip and were draped across Logan’s shoulders lazily.

 

Logan admired the pale junction of skin before him that had resulted from Harry bending his neck to the side. Giving in to his instinctual urges, he leaned forwards and inhaled deeply, savouring the mix of smells that made up Harry’s unique scent. He felt Harry jump slightly in surprise before relaxing again.

 

                “I meant what I said,” his rough voice and the puff of air that followed making Harry shudder. “An animal like me ain’t gonna be satisfied with just a few innocent pecks.” As if to support this claim, Logan’s tongue licked a wide stripe up Harry’s neck, and he lightly bit the junction as if to seal the deal before pulling back.

 

He didn’t get far, though, as Harry’s arms tightening around his neck stopped him from pulling away far enough to catch a glimpse of Harry’s face. A little surprised, Logan turned his head in a futile attempt to catch Harry’s expression, “Harry?” He felt worry build up when tremors could be felt emanating from Harry’s body pressed against his own.

 

Abruptly, Harry released him and moved so fast, pulling away but diving swiftly back in to give Logan a loud, smacking kiss on the lips before retreating with a bright grin on his face and a flattering flush across his cheeks which left Logan simply staring dazedly after it had happened.

 

                “I can live with that,” he said just as he used the opportunity of Logan’s slack grip to disentangle himself and walk off, glancing back to say, “go get washed up, dinner’ll be ready soon.” Light-heartedly, he gave a small sway of his hips just before he exited the room, smiling to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

                “Thank you Dobby, Kreacher” Harry nodded to the house-elves, one of whom piped up an enthusiastic reply before both popped away. Harry sat down in his plush chair at one head of the table and rebelliously pulled up his legs, crossing them on the seat.

 

He looked up curiously at the sound of a plate noisily being put down and saw Logan in the process of dragging his chair to his side whilst grumbling about ‘posh people’ and their ‘insistence on sitting at opposite ends of tables’, his plate already moved to Harry’s left.

 

Harry hid a smile behind his hand before composing himself and smiling tenderly at the man who had sat himself by his side. “Before you get any weird ideas about me, Kreacher is the one that is fussy about things like proper seating positions for meals. He served a prominent pureblood family for countless generations after all.” Harry shot a lopsided grin at Logan, “I’m gonna blame you when he sees what you’ve done.”

 

Logan snorted, scooping up a large spoonful of food and shovelling it into his mouth before saying, “no problem. I’ve never been one for rules anyway.”

 

                “Yes, I can see that,” Harry chuckled at the thought of Logan completely subservient to _anyone’s_ orders. “You must’ve been a pain in the arse to your superiors.”

 

Logan laughed, boisterous and unreservedly. Harry thought that he quite liked the way it sounded and reverberated off the walls. “You betcha. I do things my way or not at all, bub.” He eyed the way the corner of Harry’s eyes crinkling in amusement as he listened and ate silently.

 

Logan noted the slight pause Harry did after each mouthful, and was entertained with the thought that he was savouring the tastes that much. “I’m guessing that _you_ would’ve been the teacher’s pet then?” He asked, lip quirking. He waited patiently as Harry swallowed, inconspicuously watching the bobbing of Harry’s adam apple.

 

                “Actually,” Harry huffed out a laugh. “I was more like the bane to my head of house’s life. I either instigated or was caught up in something or another every year whilst I was in school.” He shook his head, laughing now when he thought about it, “I think she wasn’t so happy to have me in her House after all, what with all the trouble I caused.”

 

                “Really,” Logan raised a sceptical brow. “What sort of things then? Is it anything like that ‘Championship’ thing that the government guy was so impressed ‘bout? I get the feeling that from how things’ve turned out for ya, your life must’ve been one hell of a ride, bub.”

 

Harry grinned at that spot-on claim. “In school? Well,” he cleared his throat, pushing away his cleared plate. “I broke into wards and traps that all my professors had set-up to protect a valuable artefact - the philosopher’s stone - with my friends because I suspected that one of my professors was going to steal it for himself in order to gain immortality. I ended up finding another professor there who was also hosting a parasitic-version of the dark wizard that killed my parents in his body and he tried to kill me but… well… some ancient magic about my mother’s sacrifice of her life for mine made it impossible for them to physically touch me.”

 

“In second year I found out I could talk to snakes - an ability that the wizarding community oft associated with dark wizards. I then investigated and found the Chamber of Secrets, a hidden underground lair that held a centuries-old Basilisk which was under the control of Tom, also known as Voldemort, the dark wizard. I fought the Basilisk and destroyed the diary in which a piece of his soul resided.”

 

“Third year a supposed traitor to my parents, my godfather Sirius Black escaped from the wizarding prison, Azkaban. I met up with him and also found out that my Defense professor that year was a werewolf. When I was fourteen I was dragged into the Triwizard Tournament, which you heard about.”

 

“I faced a dragon, merpeople and an enchanted maze that was rigged to let me win. I was used to help create a mortal vessel for Tom before I just barely escaped with the help of my parents’ spirits. Fifth year my friends and I started our own secret Defense group, learning ways to defend ourselves that the Ministry denied us. My godfather also died that year because I made a mistake and walked right into one of Tom’s traps.”

 

“In my sixth year, I almost killed a fellow classmate using a spell I didn’t even know, regardless of the fact that he was trying to kill our headmaster; who died in the end anyway from my guardian’s hands – which, by the way, was what my headmaster _wanted_ – resulting in my guardian having to continue his façade by taking over the school as Headmaster, allowing Tom’s _followers_ access inside,” he spat the words out unkindly. “My two best friends and I left school after that, to hunt down Tom’s horcruxes.”

 

Logan raised a brow at the word which Harry waved off dismissively, mumbling that it was “basically pieces of Tom’s soul in objects to keep him tied to the world of the Living.” Logan’s other brow went up but he accepted the explanation without argue.

 

                “You’re right,” Logan said instead, “you definitely sound like you had quite a penchant for attracting trouble.” He smiled when Harry laughed and nodded at the understatement.

 

                “Yes, that’s why I’ve been trying to savour the quiet years after. However, with this potential threat coming, I guess I can say good-bye to any such hope.”

 

Logan smirked, amused that Harry seemed both irritated but excited at the prospect. After more subdued conversation, Logan pushed away from the table and looked to Harry. “We best be off to get some rest then, huh? If what you told me earlier is anything to go by, we’ll be having quite a day tomorrow.”

 

Harry nodded and stood up as well. He lead them upstairs and nodded to Logan’s room once more.

 

Logan paused and looked inquisitively at Harry, though. Slowly, as if Harry was expecting him to flinch away, Harry lifted a hand and ran his fingers through Logan’s thick hair, a soft smile on his face.

 

Green eyes glanced up to meet Logan’s gaze and Logan could see how much of a wonder it was for Harry to be given the opportunity to pour his unconditional love into someone that _wasn’t_ going to fade away like everyone else; someone that could be as eternal as him.

 

Feelings of protectiveness and tender care of the man in front of him – who was, really, still so _young_ – Logan brushed a thumb across Harry’s cheeks in a rare show of affection before pulling Harry into a hug, attempting to cover all of Harry in his presence and comfort.

 

Startled, Harry’s hands froze for a second before they settled themselves firmly around Logan’s torso in return, turning his head to lay his ear atop Logan’s chest. He sighed as he once more heard that comforting, strong heartbeat thudding from Logan’s chest.

 

Pulling away slightly, Logan’s hands stroked up and down Harry’s back as he spoke, “get some rest, Harry. Unless,” he added with a sharp smirk tugging at his lips, “you’d rather come in and take one with me.”

 

Harry laughed, a wholly carefree sound, and pressed a quick kiss, flicking his tongue across Logan’s lips, before skilfully slipping out of Logan grasp and darting off in the direction of his own room. Without turning, he raised an arm to wave and called out, “not yet, Howlett!” before merging with the dark corridors, out of sight.

 

Looking somewhat dumbfounded, Logan could only stare at the space where Harry had disappeared off into as the other man’s words echoed softly and caused warmth to blossom in his body, as well as his more feral nature to salivate at the thoughts that those words evoked.

 

* * *

 

 

The two men were enjoying a comfortable silence whilst they ate their breakfast leisurely. It was  interrupted soon after, though, by a screech and a swoosh, resulting in the daily paper dropping right in front of Harry – who, used to this by now, did not react. Instead, he robotically summoned some treats for the bird who caught them in flight before exiting just as swiftly.

 

Harry was about to finish his breakfast first but the picture on the front page caught his eye and he quickly snatched up the paper, unfolding it to see the large-spread picture and bold headline standing out starkly:

 

**_Harry Potter’s influence a threat to the Ministry?_ **

 

The image just below was obviously taken from the day before, at the café. It depicted the rather regal scene just at which the line of his ‘extended family’s’ representatives that had arrived by Elena’s call had raised their wands in unison against the group of reporters present.

 

It was obvious from the shot that the person who captured the image had a perfect view of their imposing barricade but because of his and Logan’s positions at the time, Harry was hidden from view whilst Logan’s profile was caught in a spectacularly clear view; despite being at the corner of the frame.

 

Frowning, anger simmering in the edges of his consciousness, Harry skimmed over the article which went through the process of heralding him – as per usual – before turning its disapproving views on his interactions with _half-bloods_ – he guessed they had jumped to the conclusion that Logan was a werewolf or something equally as savage – and finally it clinically questioned the power he actually held over Britain’s wizarding community; considering the fact that he had raised and/or trained at least half their most notable figures and held the loyalty of many prominent households.

 

Harry’s grip on the paper tightened as he read the outlandish ideas that he may be simply ‘biding his time’, until he became some sort of ‘shadow king’ behind the wizarding world. He scoffed and tossed the paper away from him in annoyance. He knew by now that there wasn’t any way to _stay_ out of the spotlight or at least on the good side of the media; who craved any and all rumours they could get their grubby hands on, regardless of its validity.

 

Across him, Logan eyed the discarded paper curiously and plucked it up, giving the front page a quick once-over before rolling his eyes. However, he did something that startled Harry for a second. One of his claws on his right hand came up and nimbly, he sliced up the paper.

 

_He didn’t really have to go that far_ , Harry thought idly as he watched Logan’s actions incredulously. He was further taken aback when Logan tossed the scraps of shredded paper onto the table uncaringly, but then slid out of his chair to Harry’s side, holding out a section of paper that had been cut out.

 

Taking the flimsy paper, he turned his gaze onto it and was surprised to see a perfect cut-out of the front page image of his ‘relatives’.

 

                “You should keep this. Whatever the gossip-mongers say, those god-kids of yours look damn good in this shot,” Logan explained, his own eyes watching the playback of the moving image showing the harmony in which the group had stood with one another, ready to defend their own.

 

Logan’s words caused Harry to laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded in agreement to the statement, smoothing out the paper much more tenderly then with a proud smile on his lips for the limitless steadiness of his extended family.

 

At his side, Logan’s own lips were quirked in response to Harry’s uplifted mood and smile, contentment rippling through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed! Any mistakes are my own.


	20. Interspecies Cooperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiiiiiiiiive! (yes, think Mushu). We should play 'spot the difference in writing' or smth. literally half of this was written like... last year. and the other half today bahahhaa :x Anyway, long AN at the bottom just cause... it's swot vac and i'm stuck at home for the week :(
> 
> As usual, this is NOT BETA'd so... any mistakes are mine, sorry! For now, enjoy! (:

“Kreacher, Dobby, prepare some snacks, please. We will be having visitors over today,” Harry instructed just as he dropped to his knees on the rug and leaned towards the fireplace. Logan, standing silently off to the side, raised a brow and may have been guilty of tilting his head and admiring the curve of Harry’s ass in his bent-over position.

 

Openly raking his eyes over Harry’s body repeatedly, he smirked when Harry turned his head and Logan caught a glimpse of a blush travelling up Harry’s ears in embarrassment; obviously feeling the heat of Logan’s stare on him.

 

                “Logan,” Harry’s voice grabbed his attention as he glanced at the back of Harry’s head. He was pleased to note the slight waver in Harry’s voice as he grunted in reply. “Watch the door, will you? They’ll be coming anytime soon.”

 

Logan chuckled in response to Harry’s weak diversion tactic but conceded nonetheless and kept an ear out for the door whilst Harry worked to reconnect the Floo and link it to the one in the X-Mansion. Apart from the occasional popping of Dobby and Kreacher placing various snacks and refreshments along the dining table, the house was pleasantly quiet and calm for a few moments before their first guest arrived.

 

                “Someone’s just passed the property wards,” Harry called out to Logan absentmindedly as he continued to weave his magic into establishing a link with the other Floo. “Could you get the door, Logan?”

 

                “Got it,” Logan’s voice called back as he strode down the hallway to the entrance, pulling open the front door just in time to see a smiling man ascend the stairs towards the door, apparently speaking to a woman just behind him.

 

Looking up at the click of the door opening, the man took a moment to appraise Logan before amused recognition seemed to light his dark eyes and he smiled, stretching out a firm hand amiably, “hi, Leonard Weasley, nice to meet you. You must be Logan.” Before Logan could reply, the man – Leonard – turned to motion at the woman beside him, “this beauty here is Maia Lupin.”

 

Rolling her eyes and slapping Leo’s shoulder good-naturedly, Maia nodded at Logan in greeting. Logan simply gripped Leonard’s hand and shook it once before motioning for them to move inside. He could see from their easy familiarity and ease in the house that the pair were fairly acquainted with Grimmauld Place.

 

They entered the living room to see Harry sitting back up straight, still facing the fireplace, and wiping an arm on his brow. Hearing the approaching footsteps, Harry turned and smiled as he caught sight of their first guests, laughing and obligingly spreading his arms to receive a hug from both adults.

 

Logan stood back and watched the three happily catch up, taking in the happiness in Harry’s eyes, unwillingly liking the unknown pair immediately simply because they made Harry so cheerful with their appearance.

 

Their next arrivals came in the form of a pair of twins. Entering with a sort of other-wordly auras, Logan’s gaze followed them curiously all the way until they faced Harry, whose wide grin made a reappearance before the twins seemed to glide towards him as if they were gravitationally pulled by Harry.

 

Logan was amused to see more obvious signs of fondness spark from Harry’s demeanour towards the two middle-aged men as he stroked their backs when they hugged and brushed aside unruly strands of hair tenderly. A part of Logan deep inside him rumbled, pleased, at the clear indication of Harry’s motherly tendencies. That same part whispered teases to Logan of Harry making a fine mate – strong, kind and beautiful.

 

He was pulled out of his reverie of imagining various situations of domestic life with Harry when said man turned to face him with a smile and a beckoning hand. Striding up to the group of wizards before him, Harry turned to face their guests as he said, “guys, this is Logan Howlett, he’s from America, at the same school where I’m currently staying at.”

 

                “As I said earlier, I’m Leonard Weasley, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” the first man nodded towards Harry once again. He looked over to his left at the auburn-haired woman beside him, who leaned forward fluidly to stretch out a hand towards Logan.

 

                “Maia Junos Lupin, Department of International Magical Cooperation,” her eyes crinkling in a way that implied years of experience accepting and manoeuvring new factions of the world – in his case, mutants. He released her hand after a brief shake and followed the trend by turning to face the twins by Harry’s left.

 

His brows rose, however, when instead, the twins stepped forward as one and took one of his hands in each of theirs. The twin on Logan’s left had a faraway look which made his smile seem dreamy and somewhat loopy whilst the other had a sharp glint in his eyes, piercing into Logan easily even as his own smile softened the severe gaze.

 

                “This is Lysander,” Harry laughed, motioning from the softer-looking twin to the other, “and Lorcan Scamander. Senior Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries.”

 

Logan nodded at the two before him, but was out of his element as to what to do, considering the two still held his hands captive. His attention was drawn to _Lysander_ , though, when said twin leaned closer to him, smile still in place and seemed to see something in –through?- Logan that pleased him.

 

                “Beware the nargles, who prey on gentle souls. Cunning little creatures that can warp the mind, which is easily persuaded. Lose sight of your will’s tether and corruption shall prevail over your eternity,” Lysander’s smooth tones washed over Logan like a chilly curtain, eyes widening as he was taken aback by Lysander’s baffling first words.

 

On his other side, Lorcan scoffed softly, smile growing sharp as he commented, “not like it would take much,” speaking to his brother even though his piercing ice-blue eyes hooked Logan’s own powerfully; a quiet warning in his gaze. “Your inner-beast is already rather clearly visible, though you would do well to learn better control, regardless of your complete embracement of it.” Then, struck by an amusing thought, Lorcan threw a look over his shoulder and said “actually, having Harry around will probably do you a whole world of good by itself.”

 

Harry made a face but glanced over at a humming Lysander, who nodded, “Harry has much experience in internal warfare and acceptance. His is a presence that is a balm to the weary of its own.”

* * *

Harry brushed off his pants and stepped away from the fireplace seconds before Agent Coulson stepped through, followed immediately by the Professor, in two of the most smoothest floo-transitions he’d ever seen; although maybe Charles simply needing to pass through the barrier with his wheelchair – like entering platform nine and three quarters – was kind of cheating already.

 

The two men glanced at one another as if reassuring themselves that they’d manage to walk through a lit fireplace unscathed and in one piece before swiftly taking in the rest of the room’s occupants. Harry stepped forwards and briefly began introductions for the two newcomers, who seemed to take everything in stride.

 

Just as Dobby and Kreacher popped out of the room once having finished setting down some tea, he beckoned them to take seats among the chairs and couches scattering the living room. “Leo, Maia, did you find anything of what I asked?”

 

Briefly exchanging a single glance between one another, Leo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke. “You know that any remaining factions of the Dark Lord’s followers are almost extinct, Harry, so it was hard to get any hint of a whisper regarding anyone possibly of Voldemort’s following, especially since it’s been so long already.”

 

Leo had uttered the name without a blink, him and many others having grown up firstly without the fear of the Dark Lord Voldemort lingering in their lives, as well as having at least one relative who fought alongside Harry – who did not stand for such nonsense as fearing a name.

 

“Nonetheless, I looked into any and every case I could find from the timeframe you gave me up until today.” Leonard sat back and shook his head. “There’s no evidence that any Death Eater, or sympathiser, may have made contact with this… ‘brotherhood’.”

 

Harry nodded thoughtfully, not immediately dismissing the possibility that there may not even _be_ a threat. Logan, however, was scowling and already thinking of what foul plans Magneto may have in store this time. Leo looked over to Maia then, as did Harry.

 

                “It is as Leo said,” she agreed, “whilst I did not find any evidence that the two groups may have been in contact with one another, I _did_ take an interest on this ‘brotherhood’ group that you mentioned. Of the many factions I oversee as part of my job, I’ve only ever known the bare minimum about the mutant population. From what I know of the magical and muggle government, Britain is not as… invested in the idea of mutants than those in the States,” she glanced over at Logan once curiously.

 

“So, I decided to do a little digging and may have asked for a few… _completely hypothetical_ opinions from my peers,” she smiled. “It is of a shared belief, Harry, that whilst this mutant ‘brotherhood’ may have initially expressed an interest in the magical community, neither they nor remnants of the Dark Lord’s followers would have put up with such unknowns. Simply their existence alone challenges their… ‘causes’, really.”

 

For this ‘Magneto’ fellow, I hardly believe he would think of any allied wizard as anything but below him and simply tools to attain his goal before he would probably insist on wiping us out as well, as we might be yet another contender to ‘evolution’, as they are.”

 

On our side, well, it’s quite obvious that no self-respecting pureblood supremacist would stoop low enough to get help from muggles, let alone ‘mutant’ ones; no matter how gifted they may be.”

 

Before anyone else commented on Maia’s conclusion, Lorcan spoke up. “We see no evidence to prove otherwise, uncle,” his eyes catching Harry’s. “There are but two ways, now, that await their path if extinction or extermination becomes the only way.” He looked to his twin just as the other smiled indolently at their teacups.

 

                “Redemption is often a steep and narrowed path; and it is easy to take the calmer trail or to lose ourselves in the downward haste. Contradiction is the culture of men, wanting to be set apart from their own blood. Yet, straying from the path will result in the normalisation for those who shine too brightly, and haste can only serve to warrant injury, if not death.”

 

The professor and Coulson felt somewhat relieved to see that everyone else was looking just as baffled by the twin’s ambiguous words – aside from Harry, of course, who merely narrowed his eyes in contemplation. There was an odd sort of silence then, which descended over them momentarily, before Harry motioned to Coulson. “Agent Coulson, were you able to do any digging of your own on this matter?”

 

                “I spoke to Director Fury regarding this issue, and he enlisted the help of the Avengers to aid in tracking the movements of both groups.” Harry’s mouth had twisted up in amusement at the mention of the superhero group, before culling slightly under Coulson’s unimpressed gaze, now that said agent was essentially ‘in the know’ about the magical community.

 

“We had Stark and Banner combing through everything they could get their hands on – which would be everything. We had agents Romanov and Barton checking SHIELD files as well as gather some information first-hand. Like Miss Lupin said, evidence came up of the two groups coming into contact, but nothing that suggests any long-term alliances.”

 

Harry relaxed into the couch and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, obviously we all agree that there doesn’t seem to be a high possibility of them joining up then.” This was met with nods all around, except for Logan who simply continued scowling slightly. “Well, I can say that’s definitely a relief. Having one problem is bad enough, but if these two headaches joined up…” he merely shook his head, not even wanting to consider the shit storm they’d cook up.

 

Xavier smiled, “well then, I’d say we shouldn’t worry ourselves over this. Although, it would still be prudent for us to remain vigilant in case the worst happens.” Harry chuckled softly at the man’s choice of words but said nothing at the curious gaze directed towards him.

 

                “In that case, that’s settled. Since this was much shorter than I’d anticipated, we still have some time before lunch is ready, which _all_ of you will be staying for,” he raised a brow towards the three wizards and single witch in the room who all laughed and acquiesced easily. “Well, this leaves time to get to know each other then. If I continue staying at the Mansion for my… ‘vacation’… you might as well familiarize yourselves with one another.”

 

He was glad to see there was no ice to break as the Professor instantly leaned forward to speak with Leo about the wizarding government and politics – god bless their souls – whilst Coulson asked Maia questions about her own profession, admittedly rather intrigued by what other things the magical world had to offer – and maybe to see what sort of fairy tales held some truth too; after all, if _Thor_ was real, what wasn’t?

* * *

Their magical guests had left not long after a hefty lunch. Logan himself had, surprisingly, enjoyed the company of the twins. As long as he took their odd way of speaking in stride and went with whatever he thought they meant, they managed to hold a conversation rather well.

 

To his bemusement, all of them had managed to extract promises from Harry to catch up more with their families as well as to introduce Logan to the family. The last part had been said with quite some gleeful undertones that Logan wasn’t sure how to take just yet.

 

Currently, they were once more escorting the agent and the professor towards the fireplace – of ‘floo’, as it was – but why’d they name a method of travel like a toilet Logan didn’t bother to think about.

 

                “We should be returning to the Mansion by the end of the week, Charles,” Harry said, glancing at the floo. “Although now that I’ve linked the floo network from my home to the Mansion, it’ll definitely be much easier to travel to and fro.”

 

                “Hmm indeed, and this method of travel can be used even without the help of a magical individual?” Coulson asked, having been curious about it from the beginning.

 

                “Yes, so even if we were separated during an emergency, all that’s needed is to use it just as I showed you and you’d be able to cross the network yourself.”

 

                “I’m thinking of all the possibilities we could make use of with this. Truly! Near-instantaneous travel between continents, let alone its uses for emergency evacuation. This can be quite the asset indeed.”

 

                “That’s true, and you would not be the first to think about it. Maybe in the future, this might be possible. But right now… well, people just aren’t open-minded enough to take something as useful as this thankfully without suspicion or somehow making use of it in unsavoury ways… let alone _believe_ that it’s possible.”

 

Coulson sighed, conceding that what Harry said was true. Man truly was his own worst enemy, especially to progress without bigotries. “Well mister Potter, it was pleasant to meet up again. I’m glad you seem to be settling in well with the Professor,” he glanced over at Logan, “and I hope to see you again soon.”

 

                “The pleasure was mine, Agent Coulson,” Harry smiled. “and you really should just call me Harry. Maybe one day you could introduce me to some more of your interesting… acquaintances.” Harry winked and laughed good-naturedly.

 

Smiling dryly, and hoping Harry didn’t turn out as yet another troublemaker for him, Coulson bid them goodbye and stepped through first.

 

                “Enjoy the rest of your trip, Harry. And of course, feel free to invite your friends to the Mansion anytime,” Xavier nodded at the men before pushing himself through the floo, thankful for once that the wheelchair, as it helped keep him centred during what was likely a confusing mode of travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayerz~ I bet this was super anticlimactic xD As you can see... I've really lost the muse for this so if I continue this I might as well finish it up soon and just focus on the romance-y side since that's what everyone's focused on anyway haha.
> 
> After that, if I feel like it, I might add in a bunch of drabbles covering some stuff I mentioned if I still want to write them (eg Harry helping out with Rogue's powers etc)
> 
> So! I've just started uni and.. no comment there really. But I've moved now from small-town Adelaide to Melbourne! and idk why but all my friends all live ages away D: So srsly, if you're not some weirdo (wink wink), and you're somewhere near CBD feel free to hit me up hahaha i need more friends :(
> 
> As i said, it's swot vac now so i'm 'studying' (cough) for exams. that said if anyone's good at accounting omfg can u tutor me D: D: accounting hates me. Literally. I'm on HD for every subj and a P for acct x.x Conversely, if there's any school students out there who want to be a guinea pig... i've had the urge to test out my tutoring skills ;) bahaha. but i'm useless for anyth aside from maths, english and gen sci
> 
> Ok I think that's enough rambling. So! Please leave a review ;) I love all these random reviews and they make me feel guilty.. = reasons to write. hahaha :X Hope everyone's doing alright and see ya around ~~
> 
> PS. Just a random funfact I thought i'd share. As i'm currently rewatching Naruto (ikr), did you know... Kabuto uses Aikido? (: Yes, I distinctly recognized the move 'kotegaeshi' when he used in on Naruto in PTS ep49 ;) Cool, right? hahaha.


	21. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol the only thing I have to say right now is that you don't even know the extent of my winging-it on this now xD I mean, I was always winging it from the start tbh, but at least when I updated regularly I knew the general idea of what everyone was doing. But now that I've been away so long I don't even know what the heck is happening anymore hahaha.
> 
> The notes I had left for this chapter was very vague and I think it wasn't really meant to be that long of a chapter but when I covered everything it was barely over 1.5k so I decided to add a little bonus scene at the end for you guys... fanservice ftw!
> 
> Anyway I have a general idea of what next chapter is like but whether or not you'll see it anytime soon... well...

_Something_ sneaky was going on. He just knew it.

 

Harry had his lunch invitations declined by four people, been turned away from 2 homes and _was being turned away from another one right this moment._ Frowning, Harry was backed out the door by yet another great-grandchild of a friend. “What’s going on today? Are you all plotting against me or something?”

 

Said descendant simply smiled and replied in a tone reminiscent of a busy receptionist, “not at all, Harry. Really, something just came up that needs our attention so today’s just no good.”

 

Harry glanced behind him to catch a glimpse of the man’s sister leaning against the wall of the hallway, smiling a pleasant smile that Harry – with at least two centuries’ worth of experience dealing with women – recognized as affirmation that _yes, these kids were up to something._

Catching sight of dear ‘uncle Harry’ watching, the woman waved, “although it’s such a waste, why don’t you just enjoy some quiet time back home with your friend, Harry? I’m sure you can amuse yourselves for one day? Just do something touristy or whatever.”

 

Sighing, Harry finally acquiesced and bid the two siblings farewell. Standing outside their home, he turned to Logan who looked both irritated yet slightly amused at the series of rejection they’d faced that morning.

 

                “‘ _Do something touristy’_ , she says,” Harry muttered to himself. “Have they forgotten that the only place I ever go to aside from _all their bloody homes_ is Diagon Alley?”

 

Watching Harry working himself up, Logan resisted the smile twitching at his lips at just how petulant he looked. “Sounds good to me,” he said instead, drawing Harry’s attention. “Didn’t get to see much of that place the first time round anyway.”

 

Seeing Harry sigh then nod in defeat, they turned to leave, but not before Logan glanced back at the house just in time to see the two prior siblings standing by a window, speaking to one another. Probably feeling his gaze upon them, they both glanced over curiously. The brother had a carefully watchful look in his eyes, whilst the sister immediately grinned in his direction and gave a thumbs up.

 

Confused, Logan merely raised a brow before turning back to keep up with Harry as they walked to the apparation point.

 

* * *

 

They’d ended up getting a simple lunch at the Leaky Cauldron before deciding to spend the day at Diagon Alley after all. Walking around a bit more openly this time, Logan was content to simply let follow Harry’s lead.

 

At one point, they passed a shop called _Broomstix_ , where Harry had glanced over but then abruptly stopped on the sidewalk, a contemplative look on his face. The younger man decided to go into the shop, and Logan cast a dubious gaze over the mounted displays of _broomsticks_ , of all things.

 

Logan could only stand on the sidelines, a confused frown on his face, as he watched Harry speak animatedly to the shopkeeper before purchasing a variety of different broomsticks and slipping them into his pouch.

 

                “Oh! Sorry,” Harry smiled sheepishly as Logan raised a brow when they turned to exit the store. “Just stop me if you’re tired of this, I’m not used to coming here with someone who doesn’t just drag me around everywhere so I usually just take whatever chance I have to do my own shopping.”

 

Logan shook his head, not surprised, “I’m sure I’ll survive. I’ve been subjected to shopping days with the girls at the Mansion too.”

 

Not entirely convinced, Harry simply smiled and asked, “speaking of, should we get some gifts for the kids and professors?”

 

                “What did you have in mind?” Logan shrugged.

 

                “How about some books? There might be some that’d interest the professors that aren’t just for magical folk. We could get some folklore books for the kids.... hmm, actually I’ll see about that one,” Harry thought to himself about how magical story-books made no sense to him because of his separate upbringing. Still, it could be amusing to simply watch the kids at the Mansion scratch their heads over it.

 

* * *

 

After visiting Flourish and Bloots and Obscurus Books, Harry managed to snag a few informative books for the professors that he thought they’d like. Especially the wizarding history – and how it tied in to notable muggle events – for Charles and a high-level healer book for Jean to ponder over.

 

Harry also ended up getting Newt’s, Luna’s grandfather-in-law, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ for the kids, thinking that they’d enjoy reading about all the creatures, as well as _Quidditch Through the Ages_ for the boys.

 

As he stroked the books’ spines to slip them into his mokeskine pouch, he was reminded of his own copies during school which saw more use as a passed notebook than a text book. But also, he thought about how he’d try to approach the kids about his true nature.

 

During a short break, they had stopped over for a bite at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour where Harry gleefully proceeded to sneak a taste of every flavour, handing the remainders to an eye-rolling Logan.

 

                “Logan, mind stopping by some apothecaries for a bit?” Harry asked, as they passed by Potage’s Cauldron Shop. It was good opportunity to stock up on some ingredients. He had already been thinking of brewing some mild healing potions for the kids, among other things.

 

He managed to acquire a large stockpile of ingredients, including some very rare items that Harry knew he’d have to get at least Emilia or Katherine to help him brew. One thing the Malfoy line definitely held onto was its proficiency in potions.

 

The rest of their day was spent buying various other knick-knacks such as exotic teas from Rosa Lee Teabag, a fortune’s worth of dragon-hide, and plenty of sweets from Sugarplum’s Sweets Shop and Honeyduke’s. Harry had barely turned away from the cashier before tearing a bar of chocolate, sticking his tongue out at Logan who laughed at his childish wonder.

 

Harry had made a pit-stop by the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, but didn’t manage to stay for long as Arthur – George’s grandson – took a look at them, shoved some gifts in both their hands and told them to ‘run along and enjoy their day’. Harry had huffed, but acquiesced easily enough.

 

When evening came around, Harry suggested they make their way back, just as they passed by Eeylops Owl Emporium to see the current owner bringing the owls out to the back. A flash of white caught Harry’s eye and he glanced over to lock gazes with a pair of sharp, yellow eyes. Harry halted in place as those eyes stared at him with intensity and intelligence, as though it knew exactly what Harry was reminded of.

 

                “Harry?” Logan’s voice jerked him out of this connection and Harry spun around to look at Logan in surprise. Logan glanced between Harry’s wide green gaze to the proud-looking owl that had now turned its attention to him. Raising a brow at said owl, he spoke to Harry, “you want him?”

 

Harry’s mouth popped open and he was about to shake his head – because, come on, he’d seen plenty of Snowy Owls since Hedwig’s death over the years and just because they’d reminded him of her didn’t mean he went around buying every Snowy Owl he came across – but his voice got stuck in his throat when he unwittingly glanced back at the owl.

 

Watching Harry for a moment, Logan decided to make up his mind for him and led him by the wrists into the shop. The shopkeeper turned at the sound of the doorbell’s tinkling  to see a large man with an intimidating presence.

 

                “Hello, how may I help you?” He asked automatically. “We’ll be closing soon so I suggest coming again if you’d like to take your time looking at our selection.”

 

The gruff man shook his head and extended his free hand – was he pulling someone along behind him? – to point at the display area. “I’d like to get that one.”

 

Looking over, the shopkeeper spotted their Snowy Owl’s turned head. To be frank, that creature had always unsettled him by how disinterested in seemed at times, unless he was handling it around the shop, where it would stare at him with such intelligence that he wondered if it was merely playing along with him.

 

                “Ah, our Snowy Owl?” he acknowledged, putting down the cage he had been holding to walk over to the display. He had hardly extended an arm toward it before it took off, bypassing him completely and flying towards the stranger. He shouted a warning to watch out, only to see that the owl had landed somewhere behind the stranger.

 

Logan stepped to the side and looked back to see a stunned Harry with his forearm lifted, the owl in question settled smugly on it. Smirking in amusement, Logan turned back to the shocked shopkeeper. “We’ll take it. How much?” he asked, reaching back for his wallet, forgetting that he had none of the wizarding currency.

 

                “Ah, um, are you sure? She is still quite young and can be a bit temperamental at times. I would suggest a tamer breed if—”

 

                “Harry?” Logan had turned again, deciding to get Harry’s opinion as the final say.

 

Harry was still enraptured by the bird’s gaze, his other hand slipping from Logan’s slack grip to run gentle fingers down the beautiful creature’s chest. “—e her,” his voice came out raspy, and he cleared his throat before repeating, “I’ll take her.”

 

Snapping his eyes away from the owl, he repeated Logan’s question and swiftly paid for the owl. “You said it’s a female?”

 

                “Uh, yes. She’s the only one we have here. Would you like to purchase a cage, as well as some care products? I can rec—”

 

Harry had tuned out not long after the shopkeeper confirmed her gender and stroked the bird again. _The only one, huh_ , Harry thought to himself, _just like Hedwig_. Harry absentmindedly thanked the shopkeeper before they exited the store.

 

Looking at the owl on his arm, Harry thought that maybe they should’ve gotten a cage to carry her in, but blinked and then stuck a hand in his pocket, shuffling around. Pulling out a small piece of paper, he unfolded it and held it up.

 

                “This is our place, girl. Think you can find it?” he asked. The owl’s sharp eyes turned to the paper as Harry’s own gaze ran over her dark-spotted coat; evidence of her young age in comparison to Hedwig, who had come into his possession when she’d shed most of her black feathers already.

 

The owl let out a soft _pyee-pyee_ in understanding and cocked its head, as if saying that he was missing something. Knowing just what, Harry hummed thoughtfully. “How does Perdita sound? Like it?” Said creature remained silent for a moment, before barking softly once more in assent, and then taking off into the sky.

 

                “Perdita?” Logan’s voice cut through the silence that had followed.

 

Harry laughed, and shrugged. “I don’t know. She reminds me so much of my first owl, Hedwig, who was just as smart as any person I knew, aside from Hermione. That somehow reminded me that Hermione’s namesake was a Shakespearean work and Perdita was the daughter to the virtuous queen, Hermione.” Shrugging again, “I felt like it kind of fit.”

 

Humming, Logan nodded, accepting that explanation. “Sounds like a fearsome pair of ladies.”

 

                “Yeah, they were,” Harry smiled softly, fondly allowing himself to remember them. When he snapped out of it soon after, he turned to Logan, smile still in place. “Logan,” he called out, reaching out and taking the other man’s hand, interlocking their fingers easily. “thank you.”

 

Logan grinned wolfishly, then swept an arm around the curve of Harry’s spine, pulling him close. Watching green eyes blink in surprise, Logan seized the opportunity to dive down and claim the teasingly parted lips of one Harry Potter.

 

Releasing a soft sound of astonishment, Harry was left in a daze as Logan took advantage of his previously lowered guard and current stupor by daringly licking along Harry’s lips before slipping into a tantalising warmth.

 

Brain sluggishly catching up, Harry’s hands leapt up to grip weakly at Logan’s shoulders as his knees threatened to give out at the sudden onslaught of _dear merlin and gods above_ pleasure wracking his frame. Slightly slow in reaction, Harry’s eyes snapped open and his gaze darted around the nearly-deserted Alley to see some stragglers still milling about.

 

Embarrassed and slightly afraid of getting caught, Harry’s protests were muffled by their still-joined lips. His hands alternated gripping and nudging at Logan’s shoulders to get his attention.

 

_What the hell is it this time_ , thought Logan as he opened his eyes to see Harry distractedly darting about like a child caught out past bedtime. A low growl rumbled in his chest in displeasure and, unwilling to stop so soon, he simply pulled Harry into a small alcove between two shops, hiding them under the cover of shadows and the darkening sky.

 

This caused them to break apart in the process but the moment he had them safely out of sight – _there, problem solved_ – Logan pinned Harry against a rough wall; one hand around his waist and another boxing him in. Without further ado, he leaned in to continue where he left off.

 

                “Loga—mmph!” Harry tried to speak before his lips were claimed once more. This time, Logan was unrelenting, tongue viciously raking over his teeth and mapping his mouth. Harry could only moan helplessly as Logan twined their tongues together, coercing him to join in.

 

Giving up, Harry wound his arms more fully around Logan’s neck, arching up to get a better angle and just let himself have this moment. Somehow, Harry felt as though Logan exuded satisfaction at his participation, before proceeding to show him just how pleased he was.

 

When they parted, Harry’s pulse was fluttering faster than it had in a long time, as he panted to catch his breath again. He shivered, not only at the feeling of Logan’s hands running up and down his sides, but also the desire-roughened voice that said,

 

                “We best get back, before I decide to keep going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dayum, boi.
> 
> Lol ok, nah. anyway, before anyone tells me off for mixing up my animal sounds, snowy owls do indeed 'bark'. you can look it up lol. Altho idek how many people actually read these A/Ns so I might get reviewers saying it anyway...
> 
> As for irl update, I'm still making my way through my blog; laotsuki on worpress. It's mainly my personal anime reviews as well as a scattering of food and adventure posts but yeah. That's basically where my life is being sucked into. My current list of animes to watch is over 40, not even including the tv shows i have to watch too.
> 
> As always, leave me a review (much appreciated, I kid you not), and on that note I'd like to thank recent reviewers: Melrose437 from FFnet, and Phoenix, Ardens_Lumen and Havoc_Hg on AO3 for awakening my slumbering plot bunny and causing many days of daydreaming... This chapter is dedicated to you all! (:


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